


Cookies (30 Days of Prompts)

by JoifulDreaming



Series: Too Many Beds Series [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 23,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27546598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoifulDreaming/pseuds/JoifulDreaming
Summary: Sequel to "Of All The Beds In All The Hotels In All The World...", Christmas edition.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Too Many Beds Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012956
Comments: 94
Kudos: 45





	1. Help, I Need Somebody

**Author's Note:**

> For my NaNoWrimo project: 30 days of short story prompts.

The call came from Gladys two weeks before Christmas. Crowley answered the phone, startled to see the number. She had given it to him before they left the little Bed and Breakfast- “in case you ever need to talk, dear”- and he had dutifully put it in his mobile while she watched. He thought he might call again in the spring to book a getaway. What he wasn't expecting was for her to call him.

“Gladys is everything alright?” He could hear the edge in his own voice, if anything was wrong he would be there in an instant to make it right. He wasn't exactly sure when Gladys and Edie had become his to protect, but apparently they were.

“Oh, Crowley, good!” She didn't sound like someone in deep distress. He felt his hackles settle a little. “How are my boys?”

“B-boys... Oh, we're fine.”

“Glad to hear it, glad to hear it,” there was a pause, “Look, I've got myself in to a bit of pickle over here and I wondered if you boys might be able to help me. Unless you've got your own holiday plans.”

“Not a big Christmas fan, me. Aziraphale's got the tree up and he keeps secreting away so I know there are gifts happening.”

“Tell me you got him something, too.”

Crowley was silent.

“Crowley.” Her voice was stern. He had never had a real parent. Not one that spoke with him like that, anyway. And yet, her tone managed to reach inside him and pull out the truth. It wasn't the first time she'd done that and, though he didn't know how it worked, he doubted it would be the last.

“I have, I'm just a bit nervous about it, is all.”

“Oh, I'm sure he'll love whatever you give him. It's from you, after all.”

“Yeah, let's hope.”

There was another pause. This was why Crowley preferred texting.

“So, I know I said we're fine and we are,” Gladys took the conversation back to it's origin, “but Edie's son has taken ill and she's busy tending to him...”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Yes, but you see, we signed up for the bake sale here in town over a month ago and I'm afraid I don't think I can do it all myself.”

“Your grandson?”

“He's never been interested in baking, Crowley.”

“The breakfast ladies?”

“They've all signed up, too. They have their own baked goods to make,” Gladys sighed and it sounded to Crowley to be a little put on, “I can tell them that I'll make what I can make, I suppose. Any amount that goes to the charity will help.”

There was a silence and Crowley swore he could hear her smirking. He let it drag on for another few seconds.

“What charity?” He put his face in his hand. He was being suckered by a little old lady in a bed and breakfast out in the country. He could feel it happening just as surely as anything. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“The orphanage a couple towns over. Their heater has been limping along for a couple years now, but I don't think it'll keep through this one. Those poor dears. But, we're going to raise the money to have the furnace replaced.”

“With a bake sale.”

“What better way is there?” How could someone's eyes twinkle through a mobile phone? That was impossible. He was losing it. He nearly suggested an online campaign. There were plenty of people who would open their wallets for cold children this time of year. But, he doubted Gladys even owned a computer.

“I can be there by tomorrow night.”

“Oh, do bring Aziraphale, too.”

“I think he has plans here in the city, Gladys.”

“I think he probably has plans to be wherever you are, Crowley. Ask him. Maybe he would like to get away with you to the country side.”

“Maybe.”

“I'll have a room made up for you, dear. For both of you. Best room we have. Our honeymoon suit.”

Crowley choked and coughed awkwardly.

“All that means is it's a bit bigger, dear, don't get your knickers in a twist.”

“Sure.” His voice did not squeak, it really didn't.

“And it's got a nice, big bath tub,” Her voice was doing that thing where he could hear the twinkle in her eye again, so weird, “big enough to share.”

“Alright then,” his voice had now definitely risen in pitch, “So, I'll talk to Aziraphale and you'll see one or both of us tomorrow night.”

“Oh, thank you, dear,” she sounded relieved at least, even for her meddling, “I really do appreciate the help. Time was, I might've tried to do it all on my own... But, wisdom tells you when you need a little help.”

“Sure, Gladys.”

“Bye-bye! Can't wait to see my boys.”

“See you soon.” Crowley swiped the phone to hang up and sat and stared at it. Time was, he might've tried to get out of this. Surely, there was an excuse somewhere. But, well, Gladys had wormed her way into his heart like a spindly vine, hadn't see? She was largely responsible for his current happiness. He owed her a lot. Maybe everything. What were a few days baking cookies, anyway? They could be back here by Christmas and his plans wouldn't have to change.


	2. Pick On Crowley Day

He dropped the subject over breakfast the next morning, suddenly.

“Gladys called me last night.”

“Gladys... oh, from the Inn?”

“How many Gladys' do you know?”

“I'm not sure, I've never done an inventory. I would have to consult my rolodex.”

“Roll- Of course, of course you have one. You're you.”

“No need to get snippy,” Aziraphale took a sip of his coffee that was more like cocoa than anything else and Crowley could see him hiding a smile, but he let it go, “I mean, how much more prying can the women do? I suppose she could ask if we're married yet.”

Crowley choked spectacularly on the black coffee he had been drinking, only narrowly keeping from spraying the table and the angel across from him.

“Alright there?”

“Fine,” Crowley wheezed and set his coffee down, thinking perhaps it was best to not try that again during this conversation, “No, she wasn't mettling. Well, no, I'm sure she was because that's who she is.” Now he wondered. But, what could she be up to? She couldn't know.

“What was the reason for her call then?”

“She needs our help- well, my help.”

“Which is it?”

“She asked me, but she told me to invite you.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?”

“Hmm!” Aziraphale winked at him. Crowley wondered if perhaps they had all got together to test him.

“You don't have to come. I can drive over this afternoon and help her with her cookies and then drive back when we're finished. Our plans don't have to change. You can stay here.”

“Do you want me to stay here?”

“What?”

“Do you want some time away? Maybe we've been spending too much time together,” Aziraphale was staring at him with an alarming amount of earnestness, “It's okay if you want to go away for a bit. I'll miss you, of course, but I won't take it personally.” He reached across the table and squeezed Crowley's hand.

“Don't be absurd.”

“I wasn't!”

“Angel, I-” and he cut himself off suddenly, looking down at the table and taking a deep breath before looking back up, “I want you to come. If you want to come, that is.”

“It's settled then,” Aziraphale took a tiny bite of the scone on his plate, “I can't wait to eat her scones, so much better- real butter, I think that's the key.”

“We'll be baking cookies, though, I'm not sure there'll be time for scones.”

“There will be scones,” he patted his lips free of crumbs.

“How... How can you know that?”

“Because she knows I'm coming round.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes. This smelled like a conspiracy.

“She likes me Crowley, you know that.”

Crowley kept staring.

“Dear, she likes me because I make you happy. You're the favorite. Don't get all... bothered.”

Crowley nabbed the last bit of scone off his plate and popped it in his mouth just to watch his angel fluster and fume.

“Rude... Demon.”

“As charged!” Crowley smirked, rising and offering his elbow, “I'm packed. I'll take you to yours so you can pack, too.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale let him lead the way out of the café.

“You're welcome. I know I'm in for a sit and wait.”

“Rude, again!”

Crowley opened and shut the passenger door of the Bentley, chuckling. Maybe they were conspiring. Or maybe it was Pick On Crowley day. Either way, he would have his fun, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr: [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	3. I'm A Demon, Not A Baker

Crowley was right in the end. He sat for over an hour, staring at the Christmas tree- “oh, Crowley, it's OUR Christmas tree now!”- while he waited for Aziraphale to finish packing. He should have given him a luggage limit, he thought belatedly.

Two suitcases and a leather duffle bag appeared on the floor by his feet and Aziraphale descended the stairs.

“We aren't going to be there very long.”

“You're not sure how long we're going to be there.”

“I said we'd be back before Christmas.”

“Are you sure of that?” Aziraphale was standing in front of him now, hands on his hips. Crowley pressed his lips together. He didn't know if he wanted to bop him on the nose or kiss him.

“Bastard.”

“As charged,” Aziraphale sing-songed, picking up the duffle and heading for the door, “you coming?”

Crowley muttered and picked up the two suitcases, following him out.

“These are books.”

“Of course they are.”

“'Of course they are...' Aren't you going to help with the cookies? You bake now.”

“I bake cakes.”

“Cakes, cookies, what difference is it?” Crowley shut the luggage into the Bentley and ushered him to the passenger door, opening it for him.

“They are completely different things,” Aziraphale sat down primly. Crowley shut the door on him. He'd be squawking by the time he sat down inside, but in the moment it had been satisfying. The Universe was definitely testing him.

Aziraphale was quiet when he slid in beside him. Crowley turned the car on and edged out into the street before hitting the gas. 

“I can help.”

“Neh, you don't have to.”

“I could be moral support.”

“Gladys and I can handle it, you can just relax and read.”

“Do you mean that? You can change your mind, you know.”  


“Nah, you just have a couple days off your feet, eh?” He slid his hand over the angel's knee and gave it a squeeze.

“How did she manage to twist your arm into doing this, anyway?” Aziraphale's hand was over his, warm and soft. Crowley felt himself relaxing by degrees. This wouldn't be so bad, not with his angel along for the ride. Even if he didn't have the foggiest idea how to make cookies, either.

“Orphans.”

“Oh, oh dear.”

“Cold ones.”

“My goodness. She did lay it on thick.”

This was most certainly a trap. A cozy little trap. And he was driving right into it.

Can I get, he thought, a wahoo?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr: [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	4. Who Can Stop The Rain?

By the time they made it to the bed and breakfast it was pouring down rain. Crowley supposed if it had been snow, the scene would have been picturesque: the snow clinging to the windowsills, the roof, the stone wall that led out to the gardens. Instead, everything looked drenched and cold. He wasn't very keen on getting out of the car.

“Maybe it will ease up if we give it a minute,” Aziraphale was staring out the window with similar misgivings on his face.

They waited a minute and then five more and then twenty. The rain was unceasing, pounding away at the Bentley and the space between it and the inn. And now darkness was settling properly.

“Have a holly jolly, dark and damp and cold, Christmas,” Crowley muttered. Aziraphale shot him a look.

“You're being dramatic.”

“Your face is dramatic.”

A light flickered on in the distance and Gladys stepped out onto the porch, hand over her eyes. She spotted them- or the car, at least- and broke into a smile, waving at them. Then waving for them to come inside.

“We're about to get very, very wet.”

“We could pretend that we don't see her.”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale's tone was reproachful, but he squeezed his hand, “I'll warm you up later.”

“Promise?” The grin he turned on the angel was lascivious.

“I promise,” he let go of Crowley's hand, his own sliding up the demon's thigh and giving it a squeeze. 

“Mmm, okay.” They flung open the doors in unison and moved quickly to gather the bags: Aziraphale grabbing his duffle and Crowley's one duffle, too, while Crowley hauled out both of Aziraphale's book suitcases. Not even bothering to pretend any of them were heavy, they legged it for the light of the porch.

“Aziraphale! I'm so glad you could make it, too!” Gladys was hugging him and kissing his cheeks. Crowley watched with some amount of amusement as a blush creeped over the angel's cheeks. But then Gladys was on him, hugging him around the middle and kissing his cheeks, too, “Oh, you're positively drenched. Come on, I have towels. Lovely Christmas weather!”

She led them into the foyer, handing them each a fluffy floral towel.

“You can leave your bags here, my grandson will be along shortly to carry them up.”

Crowley put the towel on his head and rubbed vigorously. His hair would dry a spectacular mess, but at least he wouldn't be this cold. He looked over at the angel as he tried to finger comb his hair into some kind of shape. Aziraphale was dabbing gently at his curls.

“Let's get you over by the fire so you can warm up,” Gladys ushered them towards the hearth and they sat obediently, the warmth from the fire chasing off any shivers, “I was just on the phone with Edie and I was saying I wondered if you really would make it here tonight. And then I check, and lo and behold, there you were! Perfect timing, dears.”

“Aside from the rain,” Crowley could hear the whine creeping into his voice.

“Just so,” Gladys patted his arm, “I'm glad you didn't have any problems driving in it. Hate driving in the rain, me.”

“Ah, no bother for me, I could drive the Bentley through fire and come out the other side,” he winked at Aziraphale who smirked and looked towards the fire to hide a bubbling laugh.

“Hmm, I don't think you should test that,” Gladys frowned, “I think I'll go make us a pot of tea and once we're all warmed up and dry we should get some sleep. Plenty to do tomorrow!” And with that Gladys bustled away towards the kitchen.

Crowley dried both of their clothes with a snap of his fingers and Aziraphale smiled at him in relief, wiggling happily in the chair.

“Tea,” Crowley shook a finger at him, “and then I'm holding you to your promise. No amount of warm beverages is going to chase off this chill.”

“No, but I can.” Aziraphale was smirking, looking very pleased with himself. Crowley let him. He was, after all, right. This time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr: [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	5. Of Promises and Sleepy Serpents

It took over an hour for tea and conversation to run dry. Gladys cleared the cups and bid her goodnight- “bright and early, Crowley, and that means 6am not 10!”- leaving them alone in the firelight.

“Do you suppose we have to get up that early to sneak up on the butter?”

Aziraphale snorted, “Maybe you have to milk the cows first.”

“You- you don't think that's really the case? I signed up for cookies, not cows.”

“I can't recall seeing a cow here last time, but maybe she's got one. You never know.”

“Be serious.”

“I think there's probably just a whole lot to do, darling. Shall we go to bed?”

“Yeah, I suppose so. I'll be cranky at 6am regardless, but might as well not make it worse.”

“I think that was a sentence.”

Crowley stuck out his tongue at him then rose and offered him his hand. Aziraphale took it and followed him up the stairs and to the room they had been instructed was theirs. Crowley thought, for sure, that Aziraphale had forgotten his promises earlier. He'd seemed so calm about being downstairs the whole time and even offering to go to bed was a choice about sleeping, he didn't seem rushed.

So he was shocked when he found himself pressed against the inside of the door as soon as it clicked shut. He had just enough presence of mind to turn the lock before he got lost in Aziraphale's kisses and the paths of his strong, warm hands.

“Promise is a promise, it's time to warm up my serpent,” Aziraphale smirked at him knowingly, “tea on the inside, that's not enough.”

“That's not the only hot thing I want on the inside.”

Aziraphale bit his lip and pulled him back towards the, frankly absurdly large, honeymoon suite bed.

-

Crowley was in a soft, cozy place. It smelled of him and Aziraphale. That's all that mattered, really. The rest of the world could sod off and he would be none the sadder for it if he could stay right here.

Except Aziraphale, who had been pressed all along his back, was pulling away. Crowley shot a hand out, under the blankets, and clutched his- still naked, hmm- hip.

“Nuh, where'ya'goin'?” He hadn't decided if this was emergency enough to open his eyes. He hoped it wasn't. Aziraphale chuckled and pressed back against him, kissing his jaw and sneaking a hand back around his waist.

“I smell warm sugar.”

The words didn't exactly make sense. But, that was okay, Aziraphale was wrapped back around him and that's all that mattered. Crowley started to drift back off.

“I'm going to investigate. Maybe get some coffee."

“n'coffee,” Crowley whined, “jus' more sleep.” He hadn't let go of the angel's hip.

“You can sleep. I'll be back to wake you up at 6.”

“But you're warm. You'll take it with you.”

“I'll bring it back, later.”

“You love baked things more than me.” It was a last ditch effort and he knew it. He put the full force of his pout into his words. Or, well, he tried. He was still half-asleep.

“Sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“I'm joking, dear. But, really, you sleep some more. I'll be back.”

Crowley could feel himself drifting again, half against his will. Aziraphale pulled away and a moment later more weight settled over him, pressing him firmer into the mattress. He sighed softly and let sleep take him again.

-

An indeterminate amount of time later he woke. Rolling over he checked his phone: 5:37am. He could lay here and luxuriate for a while longer. That held it's advantages, not the least of which was that Aziraphale would be back and he could try to tempt him back into bed for a cuddle. Odds were, though, the angel would not be moved. He might as well get up now and save the disappointment. 

Pulling back the covers he realized there were more than there were last night. Aziraphale had added another before he left. Crowley's heart did a funny little flip. His angel loved him, cared for him. He wanted to go on being cared for this way the rest of his days while working to return that care with everything he had. He smoothed the blanket with his fingers, deep in mushy thoughts.

When he finally did manage to get up, he dressed quickly in tight, dark wash jeans and a buttery soft black v-neck jumper. Stopping of in their bathroom, he tried to do something with his hair. After a couple swipes of his fingers he realized there was no helping it. He went to his bag and pulled out a grey scarf, wrapping it around his head and tying it off at the top. This would probably be best anyway, he decided, with sugar and flour being tossed up everywhere. He paused a moment over the cosmetics bag he had packed and then gave himself a flourish: a little bit of mascara and eyeliner. Slipping on his sunglasses, he meandered downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr: [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	6. Christmas Secrets Are Okay

Crowley was halfway down the stairs when he noticed the strange lights coming from the sun room. He detoured there instead of going straight for the kitchen, even though the smell of strong, dark coffee was nearly intoxicating.

He couldn't be sure that there wasn't a Christmas tree standing in the room the night before. He had come by the sun room, but he hadn't gone in it. It was possible the tree was off along with all the other lights. He wracked his mind to remember, but he couldn't.

There was a tree now, though, decked out in soft white lights. No ornaments to be seen, although there were boxes sitting around with “Christmas” written on them in neat, curly handwriting. He shrugged, turning and following the smell of the coffee through the foyer, past the front desk. He was nearly to the kitchen when he heard Aziraphale's soft, deprecating chuckle. He hadn't heard that noise in a while, having worked to bolster the angel's confidence over the last few months. He had every reason to be happy, proud even, of who he was and what he had accomplished with his time. The sound was followed by a happy sigh.

“You really do love him, don't you?” It was Gladys speaking in a gentle way that she never really used with Crowley. 

“I really, really do.” Aziraphale's voice was hushed and reverent, as if speaking of something holy or precious. Crowley's heart melted into some kind of syrup. He could feel a dopey look spread across his face.

“Then it will all work out just fine, you'll see.”

Crowley strode in as Gladys was patting Aziraphale's hand. He crossed the room and hugged the angel from behind, kissing the side of his forehead.

“It's going to be fine, is it?”

“How,” he felt Aziraphale flinch under his touch, “how much did you hear?”

“More secrets?”

“Christmas secrets.”

“Ah, those are the okay ones.”

“You'll enjoy your gift more if it's a surprise.”

“So you don't want to know that I heard everything?” Crowley smirked over his head at Gladys who frowned at him, for some reason, “okay, okay, I just heard that you love me. That's all. That's not a secret, is it?”

Aziraphale took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Hey,” Crowley leaned over his shoulder so he could see his face, “no need to get all flustered. I was only messing with you.”

“I know.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure. Sorry I got all worked up,” he placed a palm on Crowley's cheek and pulled him in for a quick kiss, “Really, I'm alright.” He smiled. It was still a little nervous around the edges.

“I see there's a tree in the sun room now. That wasn't there last night.” He handed it out as a distraction for all, sprawling in the chair next to Aziraphale's. Gladys handed him a cup of coffee and he nodded gratefully.

“Yes, Aziraphale went out and chopped it down this morning, if you'll believe it!”

Crowley looked at Aziraphale who made a pulling down motion with his hand.

“Uh huh, well that was nice of him.”

“Wasn't it? I was lamenting that I hadn't had time to put one up and then in he comes with that one. Put the lights on, too.” She winked at Aziraphale who waved her off, “I might be hoping he'll help with the ornaments, but I don't want to take advantage.”

“I would love to, Gladys, truly. I'll get started on it now if I can have a cup of coffee to go.”

Gladys turned around to fix his cup and Crowley took the opportunity to drop his glasses down his nose and wink at Aziraphale. Pink bloomed over his cheeks as his eyes widened.

“You're beautiful, darling, I like it.” He sounded a little bit breathless and it made goosebumps break out and spread down Crowley's spine.

He made sure the glasses were back up when Gladys turned back around, handing a mug to Aziraphale. Crowley could see marshmallows bobbing in the milky coffee. 

“I'm going to borrow Crowley for a minute, if that's okay?”

“Oh, alright, but only a minute. It's almost half past six now.”

“I'll send him back in a giffy!” Aziraphale drug Crowley from the room by his wrist. He carefully placed his coffee on a table outside the door and pulled the demon in, kissing him hot and open until they were both panting and then he stepped back.

“You can't just spring that on me, dear,” Aziraphale licked his lips and patted down his clothes before retrieving his mug, “Not when I know I can't have you again until tonight. Off you go, cookies for orphans to bake.” He made a shooing motion.

“Off I go,” Crowley replied, dazedly, touching his bottom lip as he turned back towards the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr: [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	7. Bells Will Be Ringing

Crowley came back to the kitchen to find Gladys bent over, pulling something out of the bottom of the double oven. She turned and slid her newest creations onto a wire cooling rack on the kitchen island. That same island was now laden with sacks of sugar, bags of flour, piles of butter, a giant bowl of eggs, and every other kind of thing you could possibly stick in a cookie batter- and maybe a few that shouldn't.

“Did you get started without me?”

“I had to keep myself busy while you were snogging your boyfriend in the hall,” she said it so matter of fact as she kept placing the items on the rack. She didn't even look up at him as she said it.

“I wasn't-” Crowley sputtered, feeling his ears turn crimson, “Okay, I was.”

“Of course you were,” she threw out the parchment paper and set the cookie sheet on a pot holder next to the oven, ready for its next burden, “Reminds me of me and Edie when we first got together. Couldn't keep our hands off each other. For months. It must have been nauseating to watch.” She chuckled. Crowley joined her in front of the counter. The room was heavy with the scents of sugar, cranberries, and walnuts.

“Was it a long time ago?”

“No, only a few years, actually.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe some time we can sit down and tell you about it, hmm? We've lived a lot of life, her and I. A lot of it was lived... in parallel. We've known one another since we were wee little things. But, circumstances were different in the beginning and then there was the expected way life was supposed to go... I don't think either of us regret the decisions we made, but we're both exceedingly glad they led to what we have now. Wouldn't change a thing if it meant changing this,” she waved the spatula around at the inn, generally.

“Even if it means that you spent so much time without one another? You know, romantically?” Crowley picked at a crumb on the counter rather than look at her.

“Even so.” She picked up an icing bag and started glazing what she had pulled out of the oven. Crowley thought he knew what it was and what was coming.

“What are those?”

“Scones.”

“Oh no.”

“What, you don't like them?” She was sprinkling them with coarse sugar, making them sparkle in the light of the kitchen.

“It's not that.” He could hear the whine in his own voice.

“What is it then?”

“He's going to be insufferable.”

“Who? Aziraphale? He's such a sweetie! I don't believe he could be insufferable,” she put two scones on the plate with a little pad of soft butter on the side and handed the plate and a knife to Crowley, “You take them to him. That'll make him even happier.”

“Fine.” Crowley dutifully made for the kitchen door.

“But, Crowley?”

“Yeah?”

“Just deliver the scones and come right back, now. There's enough sugar in there for him without you adding any.”

Crowley squeaked and moved faster, into the hall, before she could add anything else mortifying. He slowed as he neared the sun room, softening his steps so he could have a moment to watch his angel. Aziraphale was bent over a box of ornaments, but when he stood Crowley could hear the tinkling of bells. Around his neck was a chain with what looked like a million and a half tiny, multi-colored bells hanging from it. They made a high chorus of tinkling sounds as he straightened and turned back to the tree to hang whatever ornament had struck his fancy.

He cleared his throat as he entered the room and Aziraphale turned to him, a bright smile tugging at every corner of his face- mouth, eyes, cheeks, even the creases of his forehead- when he saw who it was. Crowley wondered if that smile would ever not make his insides flutter. He kind hoped it wouldn't.

Then he remembered what was in his hands.

“Delivery from Gladys.” He handed the plate to Aziraphale and waited.

“Oh! Scones!” Aziraphale cooed over the plate, “my but they are gorgeous, aren't they? She's outdone herself.”

“You haven't even tried them yet.”

“Leave it to me, I can tell a good scone when I'm looking at one.” He leaned in and took a big whiff of them, sighing happily.

“That's what she said,” Crowley grumbled.

“I told you,” Aziraphale completely ignored that comment, “I told you there would be scones.”

“And I told Gladys you would be insufferable.”

Aziraphale broke off a little piece of the scone and popped it in his mouth, closing his eyes and letting out a little happy moan as it melted on his tongue.

“You don't really mind, though,” he eyed Crowley through his eyelashes, “do you darling?”

Crowley didn't. He really didn't. In fact, he would happily stand right here and watch Aziraphale enjoy the rest of both scones. And then go and fetch the remainder of the batch for him, too, and watch him enjoy those.

“Crowley!” Gladys' voice rang from the kitchen, my god that woman had some lungs, “You can have Aziraphale for dessert later! Right now, we're baking cookies!”

“Enjoy your scones, Angel.”

“Thank you, dear, I think I will.” Aziraphale was smiling enigmatically at him. The twinkle in his eye looked familiar. But, it was impossible. One could not hear an eye twinkle over the phone. And if one could not hear an eye twinkle over the phone, one could not then compare it to a different person's eye twinkle when they were standing in front of them.

He headed back for the kitchen, wondering if he had ever wondered so much about anyone else's eyes in his long, long life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr: [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	8. Kitchen Witches Don't Need To Measure

When he returned to the kitchen for the third time and dutifully joined Gladys' side of the counter, it was to find her already adding dry ingredients to a large bowl with an alarming lack of measuring. She had measuring cups and she had a scale on the counter, but she wasn't using either one. Just pouring scoops and spoonfuls of things in the sifter and then sifting them. He could feel the shock on his own face.

"Okay, close your mouth, that's unhygienic." He did. She handed him a fork and he took it, still at a loss.

“You know what, before you use that, you might want to get yourself an apron. Black clothes are not very good for baking. Well, if you want to keep them neat, anyway. Over on the other side of the oven.” She continued sifting. Crowley picked out the most frilly apron hanging- a green and pink gingham with honest to goodness ruffles at the bottom- and returned to her side, fork at the ready. Whatever the fork was for.

“Okay, now what?”

“You're going to cream the butter and sugar.”

He stared at her. She handed him a bowl, slightly smaller than hers.

“2 sticks of the butter, that's it. Now 248 grams sugar. Use the scale.”

“You aren't using the scale.”

“Mmhmm, didn't put it there for me.”

“Cheeky, you some kind of kitchen witch, then?”

She only smirked at him and pointed at his bowl. He weighed and dumped in the sugar.

“Okay, now mash it all together until it's creamy.”

He poked at the sugar-covered butter with the fork then turned the fork and pressed it down. Actually, it was kind of fun. 

“That looks good. Now add the eggs, one at a time. And the vanilla. Now we put them together!” She produced a large spatula from somewhere and after he tipped the wet ingredients into her bowl she stirred until a dough formed. But, instead of baking the cookies, she took the bowl to the large kitchen refrigerator and popped it inside.

“We'll start actually baking later. For now, let's see how much dough we can get going.”

And so it went for the rest of the morning: she sifted bowl after bowl of dry ingredients while he made bowl after bowl of wet. She'd mix them up, cover them, and put them in the refrigerator to chill. Bowl after bowl after bowl.

“Just how many cookies are we making?”

“I promised 50 assorted baskets.”

“Wha- and you thought you and Edie could do that in a couple of days?”

“Oh, dear, no. The whole thing takes at least a week.”

“But, I thought...”

“Well, you don't have to stay the whole time if you can't. I understand. I already told them I would do what I could, but that circumstances were a bit dicey around here with one woman down.”

Crowley sighed and pulled himself together. This was more important than his plans, wasn't it? This was what Christmas was really about? Family- and Gladys was family, regardless of what anyone might say- and giving. He had been suckered into it, but now he was in for the long haul. It would take some rearranging of his plans. Maybe he wouldn't have to throw them out entirely... Just, change the location.

“I get the feeling you would like us to stay through the Christmas holiday.”

“Oh, oh would you?” Her eyes glittered with what looked like hope, but what he thought was much more likely the fruition of her own plotting and planning.

“I'll talk it over with Aziraphale later. He might have to head back and leave me here.”

“I think he'll stay.” She went back to her sifting so he returned to his butter and, this time, cream cheese.

“Because he loves me.”

“Yes, that's it precisely.”

\- 

They broke for lunch in the sun room, light slanting in warm and bright through the wall of windows. The tree stood off to the side of the windows, now laden with ornaments that twinkled at random between the lights on the tree and the light coming in from outside.

Aziraphale joined him on the little loveseat, sitting properly, but with his thigh pressed all along his. The heat coming off the angel only reminded him of what he'd said earlier- “I know I can have you again tonight”- making him so distracted he stopped following Aziraphale's and Gladys' chitchat.

“Okay then, enough dawdling, back to our sugar mines!” Gladys clapped his shoulder, making him nearly jump out of his skin, “Alright there, Crowley, dear?”

“Think I'll go read on the porch for a while,” Aziraphale stood, taking his warm thigh with him. This was becoming the theme of the day. But, while Crowley was disappointed by the loss, he was also suddenly thrust back into the present where Gladys was looking at him like he should be responding.

“Okay, darling, you have a good time. Put on a jumper.”

Aziraphale smiled at her and then leaned down to kiss Crowley's cheek, “Until tonight, love.” And then he was gone, but the place he had kiss tingled.

“That means your mine yet for a few hours, come on,” Gladys lead the way back to the kitchen without looking back, knowing he would follow. It should have rankled his ego, but she had a way of detouring around that part of him. He followed her without complaint.

Four hours later saw so many more bowls of dough that he had stopped counting. The apron had helped, but couldn't cover him from everything. When he removed it, there was a subtle outline where it had covered his jumper: clean and black under the apron, slightly greyer everywhere else from the flour. He picked at it, sending the flour flying in little puffs.

“I don't suppose you have any clothes that aren't black.”

“No, not really.”

She sighed.

“It's fine, even if it was white the flour would be there, wouldn't it? You just wouldn't be able to see it?”

“I'm sure there's a deep and wise metaphor in that somewhere, but do you know? I'm pretty tired.”

“I'll clean up, you can go rest.”

“Oh,” he thought she might argue, but, “that would be lovely, dear, thank you.” She patted his cheek, crossed the kitchen, popped her own apron on a hook, and left without another word. He knew he had been suckered again, but couldn't bring himself to be the least bit upset. It had been... fun, baking with Gladys. Making something with his hands; working in tandem with someone else toward a goal. It felt homey, which was something he wasn't quite accustomed to feeling. Outside of one special angel, that was.

Speaking of Aziraphale, the quicker he cleaned up, the quicker he could take him up on his evening threats.

-

The angel wasn't outside or in the sun room by the time Crowley was done running the dishes, wiping down the counters, and mopping the floor (this baking business was a messy task), so he climbed the stairs and made his way down the hallway. Turn the door knob, he called,

“Angel, I'm home!”

“Took you long enough.” And Aziraphale was wrapped around him, from where ever he had come, pressing a deep, if somewhat sloppy kiss to his lips, “you smell like sugar and butter.”

“Probably covered in more of it than is any of the cookie dough, I suspect,” Crowley held him close by the hips.

“You've got a bit...,” Aziraphale cocked his head, smiling, “I'll get it.” He leaned in and kissed Crowley's jaw, sneaking a little lick before sucking the spot.

Crowley groaned, his knees going a little weak.

“Got it.”

“I'm sure there's more... maybe along my neck?”

“Ah, yes, I see it now.”

“Careful, though, you leave marks and I'll be hearing about it all day.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

“You wouldn't, you bastard.”

Aziraphale smirked and Crowley wriggled, slipping out from under his arm and dodging into the room.

“Me? I'm an aaaangel. I wouldn't put you in an awkward position.”

“Yeah, uh huh,” Crowley put the bed between them, “You'll have that woman teasing me all day tomorrow.”

“Maybe the day after, too,” Aziraphale was kneeling on the bed, approaching slowly while Crowley stood still, letting him- he would always let his angel catch him, consequences be damned, “besides, awkward aren't the only kinds of positions I want to put you in...” When Aziraphale pulled him onto the bed he went willingly and happily. Suckered from all sides, he was, and loving every moment of it. Maybe that's what family was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> href="https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/">sushiandstarlight


	9. He Loves You More Than Shortbread

He woke in the night to roaming hands and a sweet voice in his ear, telling of the indulgent dreams he'd had about him. Half asleep, but fully willing, he opened to the angel and, when both were fully satisfied and boneless, drifted back to sleep almost immediately.

His next awakening wasn't nearly as pleasant. It was a shake of his shoulder which he ignored at first, but grumbled when it became more insistent.

“Come on, dear, you really out to get up,” Aziraphale was standing beside the bed, bent over him so his face was the first thing Crowley saw when he opened his eyes, “it's nearly six and Gladys will be looking for you soon.”

Crowley made a sloppy swipe for the angel's middle which Aziraphale danced away from, chuckling.

“None of that now! She likes me, so far. If I keep distracting you, that may change.”

Crowley grumbled, wrapping himself around his pillow instead.

“I shouldn't have woken you last night.” Aziraphale sounded sad. Aziraphale should never, ever sound sad. Especially about that. Crowley worked at switching on his higher functions, rolling over and stretching so the blankets slid down his torso. He watched the angel watch, his gaze belying what he had just said.

“I'm glad you did. I don't regret it,” Crowley felt his jaw stretch into a yawn even as he sat up properly, “but, you keep looking at me like that and we'll both be in for a good yell.”

“Quite right, yes,” Aziraphale looked away bashfully, “it's just... well, I might've left a few marks.”

Crowley looked down and there was a trail down his chest. He imagined it ran right up his neck, too. There was something Aziraphale really, really liked about him smelling of baked goods. He was logging that in the back of his head, along with a few of the simpler recipes. If his angel liked him to bake for him... He could do that. But, that was his brain getting side-tracked in just the way he'd warned about. He could feel his blood rushing decidedly south.

“Alright, out with you.”

Aziraphale pouted, very dramatically and put on.

“I'm not getting out of bed until you leave. I know what's going to happen if I try to right now.”

An innocently look now.

“Out,” Crowley laughed, “I'll see you for lunch.”

Crowley headed for the shower after the angel left, ice cold before gradually turning it hotter and going about his ablutions. He opted for just a little eyeliner today. Aziraphale had liked it, very much, apparently. Who was he to argue with results. Stepping back into their room he miracled the jeans from yesterday clean and slipped into them, this time with a dark charcoal turtleneck. It covered all the amorous marks his angel had left behind, if only barely. Slipping on his glasses, he headed downstairs for another day of baking.

-

He passed Aziraphale near the front desk, standing on a stepladder and hanging gold and silver garland. He tapped his hip as he walked by.

“Alright, Angel?”

“Yes, dear.” Aziraphale leaned down and pecked his forehead, “best get in there, you're late.”

“Crowley! I hear you out there! Stop canoodling with your boyfriend!”

They exchanged matching lopsided smirks. 

“I'm coming, Gladys!”

“So's Christmas!”

He playfully swatted Aziraphale's bum- it couldn't be helped, it was right there- and the angel squawked.

“You keep that up, I'll take you right back upstairs!” He hissed, with no real venom.

“Hope you're into voyeurism because she'd be up there in a giffy.” Giffy, what was happening to him. 

Aziraphale fake pouted and went back to his garland hanging.

Crowley strode into the kitchen.

“You're late.”

“It's only half past six!”

“Still late.”

“Well, if you wanted to smell me all day- and I don't mean in a pleasant way- I could have been on time.”

“Also if your boyfriend didn't keep you up all night.”

Crowley's words, which were really meant to be a full sentence, came out garbled as they tripped over one another. Gladys took pity on him, breaking into one of her enigmatic smiles.

“Get over here and help me, today's going to be a bit more hectic.”

Crowley grabbed the ruffled apron and tied it in place, joining her at the counter. She had some of the dough from yesterday out and she was doling it out on cookie sheets with a small ice cream scoop.

“You come behind me, press the center with your thumb, and fill it with the jam.”

“Got it.”

The morning went quickly in a cloud of flour and bits of dough: they trayed up and baked cookies from the dough they made yesterday. While those were baking, they made more dough and tucked it away in the refrigerator. Once the cookies they baked were cooled, they stacked them in large plastic tubs and put them in the walk in freezer.

He occasionally caught sight of Aziraphale as the angel passed by the door, going one way or another with boxes of decorations. After lunch, the angel once again retired to the porch for some reading. Gladys pulled Crowley back into the kitchen for more dough making. They were in the middle of the third bowl of dough- a peanut butter oatmeal concoction- when she spoke again.

“Your gift to Aziraphale...”

“Yeah?”

“You're going to propose, aren't you?”

“Shhhh!” Crowley hissed through his teeth, nearly dropping the knife he was using to level off the peanut butter in the measuring cup, “He could hear you.”

“Nah, he's outside.”

“You can't know that. He could come back in!”

“I know. He's outside, you're fine. Your secret's safe with me, dear.”

“... a, well, a proposal, of sorts.”

“Mmhmm, and what does that mean?” She tipped the mess that Crowley had made into her bowl and started mixing it together with her spatula. This left Crowley with nothing to keep his hands busy so he pressed them to the counter.

“I don't think human ritual is something we need. Big ceremony, all that. Unless it's something he wants,” Crowley was keeping his voice pitched down, just in case, “Just... I wanted to give him a symbol of commitment. Something to say I'm in this for good.”

“Human ritual?” Gladys chuckled as she wrapped the bowl in plastic and walked it over to the fridge, “ No, I get it. It's not about showing off to a bunch of people. You want him to know.”

“Yes.”

“Have I completely derailed your plans?” She was back at the counter, not-measuring out ingredients into a fresh bowl. Really, she was a cookie-making machine. Crowley wondered just how much help Edie provided. Maybe she provided the gossip while they worked. Not for the first time, Crowley wondered if Gladys could have done this on her own, after all.

“No,” Crowley sighed, “Not really. It's not a big plan. I can do it here just as surely as I could do it back home.”

“He'll say yes.”

“Hopefully.”

“He will,” Gladys put down her sifter and turned to him, hands on his cheeks, “that man loves you, it's all over his face whenever he sees you. I have no idea what you've been through and, really, I don't need to know. It's made you a unit. That's plain to see watching you both.”

Crowley just stared at her, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“I saw it when you first got here, the two of you. Idiots. You deserve one another. I wouldn't have pushed you if I didn't think so. Got it?” She waited for Crowley to nod and then turned back to her bowl, “I think you should take a break tonight and take your man out on the town. He likes nice things, give him some.”

“You won't need my help cleaning up?”

“Not tonight, shoo.”

“Okay, maybe a little wine and dine and he won't mind staying through Christmas.”

“He won't mind.”

“You're always so sure of things.”

“The things I'm sure of, now get out of here before I change my mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr:   
> [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	10. Sushi-me for the Holidays

The app on his mobile had him driving nearly an hour from the inn to find a sushi restaurant with decent reviews. It should have taken longer, but he cheated. He could say it was because he wanted to get Aziraphale to the sushi with haste, but really he wanted to get Aziraphale home with haste. Although, in the end, it all worked out to suit either premise. 

They were seated quickly, Crowley having called ahead while the angel showered and changed: a blue sweater vest, that made his eyes seem to glow an iridescent blue-grey, with khakis. He didn't even know Aziraphale could dress down this way anymore and, somehow, it warmed him that he was comfortable enough to do so.

They ordered sake before the food and during the food and afterwards. Aziraphale ordered for the two of them, but Crowley begged off all but a few pieces of sushi that the angel insisted he try- by way of feeding him from his own chopsticks.

It was partly the warmth of the alcohol in his system, he thought, this bubble of ecstatic affection boiling up inside him as he watched Aziraphale enjoy his sushi. Each and every piece was it's own display of joy.

“I love that we get to have this,” he realized he was melting towards the table, chin resting crookedly in his own palm and elbow on the table, “that this isss the point of us now.”

“Me, too,” Aziraphale wiggled a bit in his chair and smiled brightly at him, his cheeks a light pink and his eyes sparkling, “I wish... Well, we wouldn't appreciate the peace of it now without the toil that got us here, would we?”

“I suppose,” Crowley made a face, but felt it relax a moment later as he went on watching Aziraphale.

“You've always done that, you know.”

“Done what?”

“You watch me.”

“I like looking at you.”

“You must do.”

“I could not watch you,” Crowley teased, sitting up and looking pointedly to the left, watching the next table over eating their food- not nearly as interesting, by far, “hmm, looks like they don't care for the tuna.” He could feel the pout the angel was aiming at him and he only maintained his fake interested look for a moment before he smiled, eyeing him out of the corner of his vision.

“I didn't say I didn't like it,” yes the pout was definitely there in his voice and then a loafer was stroking up the back of his calf, “I always thought it was a certain kind of... intimacy, even before. It was something I only ever had with you. A treasure, if also a secret. But, it's nice to know it so openly now.”

“I love you, Angel, you know that right?” The words slipped out, sounding easier than they were. It was something implied between them- shown in touches and actions- rarely said with words. The years of keeping such a thing under wraps gripped them, even now; old habits died hard. It was difficult, and he slouched in the chair so that he nearly slid under the table, but he made eye contact after his words. Somehow, Aziraphale's eyes looked even bluer than before.

“Of course, I do,” the flush on his cheeks darkened and it was clear he, too, struggled to keep eye contact, “As I love you.”

They eyed each other over the table, a frisson in the air. Of course, that's when the waitress brought the check.

“You fellas have a good night, okay?” They both jumped, staring at her as if she had appeared out of thin air, “You be careful getting home. That was a lot of sake you put away.”

“Of course, dear,” Aziraphale gathered his wits first and smiled up at her, “we'll be fine.”

Crowley paid the bill, he didn't ask the angel how much he tipped her.

-

They were halfway home and Crowley knew there was something they were supposed to discuss over dinner, he was just wracking his brain to remember what it was. He couldn't blame the alcohol anymore because he'd sobered up for the drive. Though, he'd insisted that Aziraphale didn't need to bother and, amazingly, the angel had conceded. He'd left the restaurant, arms wrapped around one of Crowley's and leaning snuggly into his side.

Only right now that same angel's hand was creeping, not so stealthily despite his efforts, up his thigh. It wasn't helping him remember the important thing to talk about. His pinky was just a hair from discovering just how distracted and affected Crowley was when they turned down the drive of the inn. Crowley noticed a light upstairs was still on, though the rest of the inn, save the light on the porch and in the foyer, were out. That final light went out, too, a moment later.

Gladys had waited up for them to get home. Crowley felt that surge of protectiveness again. Funny, that, since she was the one looking out for them. A moment later, as he parked, he wondered...

“If she's still up now, do you think I get to sleep in tomorrow.”

“Doubtful, darling,” his fingers had found their prize and he was teasing oh so gently.

“There was something we were sup-Posed to talk about, Angel,” Crowley shifted, more blood leaving his brain and with it, the chance of remembering. But then: “Ah!” 

He watched Aziraphale jump and snatch back his hand, looking around wildly.

“What? What is it?”

“No, I remembered.”

“Remembered what?” Oh, but he sounded a bit bitchy now. That did nothing to stamp down the flames he'd lit in Crowley. Still, he tried to bank them. In a minute, they could get back to that in a minute.

“Gladys wants us to stay for Christmas.” Might as well rip the plaster off in one go.

“Oh.” There wasn't any indication of feeling in the one word. Crowley tried again.

“You don't have to stay. I know you probably have plans in the-”

“I don't.”

“Don't what?”

“Have plans.”

“Bullshit, you've been sneaking around making plans for weeks.”

Aziraphale paused, considering this. Or considering the glimmer of the windshield. It was hard to tell when his brain was rattled.

“It wouldn't be the first Christmas we'd be apart.”

“My plans have all been to be with you, Crowley.”

“What?”

“So it doesn't really matter where we are.”

“Oh.”

“It might be nice to be here, instead,” Aziraphale leaned close to him, “I've enjoyed our stay so far, haven't you?”

“... well, yeah,” Crowley swallowed, watching Aziraphale look at him the way he'd eyed the plate of sushi when it had first arrived at the table.

“Then, it's decided. We stay through Christmas. Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?”

“N-no?”

“Good,” Aziraphale reached over, pulled him over by the ear and kissed him senseless. When they finally made it out of the car, he followed the angel- dazed by his kisses just as much as the angel was by the alcohol in his system- across the lot, over the porch, and up the stairs. By some miracle, they both kept their feet beneath them.

Crowley would follow him anywhere and, when they stepped inside their room, he told the angel as such. Aziraphale's smile bloomed like flowers in the spring and he crooked a finger.

“Only a little more ways to go now, my darling.”


	11. Don't Make Me Go Home Anymore

The days went on like that for Crowley: mornings spent baking, lunch with his two favorite people, evenings mostly spent baking too, and time alone with Aziraphale in the evenings. It should have worn on him, he thought, this constant routine. He was a being that never needed rest, but he was also very accustomed to quite a lot of it. And, used to being alone sometimes. He was never alone here at the inn. If he wasn't being tugged in the hall for a snog, he was being tugged into the kitchen to mix something else. It should have grated, but it didn't. It made him feel wanted, valued, as if he had something to commit to a whole. Try as he might, he never found that in hell. And heaven hadn't seemed to appreciate his talents, either. But, his angel loved him and this human had adopted him- for better or worse.

It was a couple days later and Crowley had rejoined Gladys after lunch to find her laying out the cut sugar cookies they had baked on day one. He had honestly lost track of how long ago that was, four days? five days? Time moved both slower and faster here in the inn and it was not his doing. She had bags of icing lined up on the opposite counter: reds, greens, whites, blacks, yellows, and a few smaller bags of other colors.

“I think the best way to go about this since you've never done it before is that I pipe the outlines and you flood.”

“How do you know I never iced a cookie before? Maybe I ice cookies all the time.” 

“Have you iced cookies before?”

“No.”

“Okay, hush up and listen.”

Crowley shut up and listened as she explained the procedure. He stood back with a cup of coffee and watched her outline the first few cookies. This icing, she explained, was a bit thicker than the flood icing. It would hold the lines of the design. After she had a few finished she waved him over to start flooding.

“Don't squeeze the bag too hard, now. Just let it flow. If you have some empty spots that's okay.” Her hand was on his shoulder, not really guiding him, more like reassuring him. It warmed his arm. Generally he didn't like people other than his angel touching him, but this was okay. Gladys was family, no harm done. “Okay give the cookie a little shake” When he did, the icing flooded the spots he had missed.

“Well, look at that. Not half bad for a novice?”

“Not bad at all.” They smiled down at the angel with it's white robe and wings, “Maybe Aziraphale would like that one. Later. Once it dries.”

“Why would you think he'd like the angel cookie?”

“Really, Crowley. That's what you call him all the time.”

Crowley blushed. Well, she wasn't wrong.

“It won't be missed?”

“Nah, there's plenty.” She set the cookie aside on a plate to dry and then turned back to outlining. She stopped and pointed at the trail of lined cookies she was leaving behind.

“Right.” Time did it's funny speeding up thing while their heads were bent to the task. Before long it was dark. Gladys had switched sides, adding details on top of the dried flood icing. When Crowley had finished his part, he took up the gold line icing and made a little heart on Aziraphale's angel cookie. It was sappy, he knew it, but he didn't care.

“I thought you might want this one. To, well to go with it.” Gladys handed him another angel. This one was exactly the same only it's wings were black.

“How could you- Why, er, why are the wings black?”

“I figure,” Gladys shrugged, “if you were an angel you wouldn't settle for pearly white wings. Yours would be crow black. It would be about style and standing out.” 

He took the cookie and put it on the plate next to the other angel. After peering at it for a moment, he piped a little red heart on his. Yes, this was definitely sappy. And, with a witness.

“We can leave these out tonight to set properly before we package them,” Gladys let out a loud, dramatic yawn.

“You go ahead upstairs, I've got clean-up duty,” Crowley waved her off, still looking at the angel cookies. She patted his shoulder and meandered out of the kitchen. He cleared the counters as best he could around the cookies, ran the dishes, and mopped the floor. Then he put the angel cookies on a plate and carried them towards the stairs. 

As he passed the sun room, he noticed the tree lights were till on. Poking his head in, he saw the angel, curled up on one end of the loveseat, staring thoughtfully at the tree. Behind him, the wall of windows opened to a clear sky full of stars. The cookies rattling on the plate in his shaking hands must have given him away because Aziraphale looked up. When he saw Crowley his face lit up brighter than the tree. He patted the space beside him. Crowley crossed the room and sat.

“When the lease is up on my flat, I'm not renewing it.” The words tumbled out of him, as if they had been sitting there all along waiting to fly.

“Okay...,” Aziraphale's brow pinched, “But why? Don't you like your flat?”

“I don't want to live there anymore.”

“Do you have somewhere else you're planning to sleep? You'll have to sleep somewhere.” Aziraphale turned toward him, their knees pressing together in the middle of the loveseat.

“Well, I-” Crowley clicked his teeth shut, this was not the right way to ask and he knew it, “Since we've been staying here... You know, this week. I've gotten pretty used to coming home to you at night.” The cookies were rattling. Without looking down, Aziraphale held the other side of the plate, steadying it.

“Is this your round-about way of asking to move in with me, Crowley?” The angel's face was pretty neutral, but a smile seemed to be tugging the side of his lips.

“Probably the worst way, ever, to ask such a thing: proclaim I'll be homeless otherwise. You have a choice. You know that, right? You always have a choice with me.”

“Darling, there's- well, there's a couple reasons I've not minded staying here longer. One of them is that I, rather selfishly, am enjoying having you in my bed each night. Knowing you'll be there. Knowing I'll wake up and you'll be there. I'm a glutton for it, I'm afraid- for more of you.”

“So is that a yes?”

“Ask me.”

“Oh, you bastard.”

“You know what my answer will be, ask me.”

“Aziraphale, can I move in with you?”

“Yes,” and if Crowley thought the smile before had been beautiful, it didn't hold a candle to this one, “Yes, of course, you can.” Aziraphale held the plate steady as he leaned forward, kissing Crowley softly before pulling away, and pressing his forehead to his. “With one caveat.”

“Okay, what?”

“You can't bring that awful sofa.”

“That sofa is top of the line! Very stylish.”

“It is awful to sit on and I won't have it.”

Crowley laughed, a deep and joyful sound that surprised himself, “Fine, Angel, the sofa is gone.”

“Well, alright then, I guess I'll keep you.”

A giddy sort of excitement bubbled up in Crowley's veins. He got to go home with Aziraphale. He didn't have to go back to his cold, modern flat. He didn't have to sit in it and count down the hours, thinking how long he should wait to give Aziraphale time away from him. He didn't have to be somewhere he remembered being attacked and spied upon by his fellow demons. He could stay with the angel, surrounded by all the things that he loved. They could mingle their things together and make it their home. Sure, there would be some fussing (he simply refused to leave his throne chair behind, but he had a feeling there were wiles he could pull in convincing the angel that it had it's uses) and probably some fights over it... But, ultimately, Crowley would get to live with his best friend in the whole universe, where he wasn't expected to pack it in and head back home afterwards. He would be home already.

“So, what's this, then?” Aziraphale's eyes had dropped to the plate they were both holding.

“Cookies.”

“For me?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I don't think I've ever received cookies quite like these...”

“Look, if you don't like them...” Crowley tugged at the plate.

“No,” Aziraphale held the plate firmly, the plate didn't budge (and boy didn't that do all kinds of things to Crowley's insides- the angel was so quietly strong), “No, I like them! They're cute.”

“I made this one,” Crowley pointed at the white angel and tried, he really did, not to blush.

“Is that me?”

“Looks like you.”

“That means this one is you?”

"Yeah, Gladys made that one for me."

“But how could she know?”

“Oh, the wings? I have no idea. She said it was a fashion choice...”

The angel hummed softly.

“Are you going to eat them?”

“I don't think I can.”

“What? They're edible, I swear.”

“It's just... they're cute. Too cute to eat, really. I think we should hang them on the tree.”

“Who hangs cookies on trees?”

“It's a thing people do, I'm sure of it.”

“Besides, icing's not set enough for that.”

“Then we'll wait and hang them tomorrow,” Aziraphale nodded, decision made, “We'll hang them tomorrow and on Christmas we'll eat them together.”

“That's... That's awfully sappy.”

“You brought me a cookie that looks like me and begged me to take you in like a lost puppy.”

“I did not beg.”

“I might like a little begging. You might like it, too. You might like what you get for it... if you're good.”

“I-” Crowley paused, taking in the darker, mischievous look on his angel's face, “I might.”

Aziraphale pried the plate from his fingers and stood, wiggling his fingers at Crowley. Crowley took his hand and followed him. They left the plate in the kitchen with the other cookies and headed upstairs for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr:  
> [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	12. Frozen Cookies Aren't Easily Startled, But I Am

Crowley woke before Aziraphale for once. It was that effervescent bubbly feeling in all of his limbs that tugged him from sleep and tempted him to roll over and watch the angel sleep. He wasn't the cutest sleeper, by far, sleeping with his mouth a little open and face half-buried in his pillow. But, Crowley didn't care about how cute he was, he was just happy to know that this was something he could have.

“I can feel you staring at me,” Aziraphale murmured into the pillow.

“Admiring, not staring,” Crowley smiled, reaching out and tucking a wayward curl behind the angel's ear, “I can admire, right?”

“Sure.” There was deep breathing for a while and Crowley wondered if he had fallen back asleep, “as long as you don't mind me doing the same.” Aziraphale's eyes blinked open and his smile was warmer than sunshine.

“I was just thinking...” Crowley trailed off as color rose up his cheeks.

“What? Isn't it too early for you to be doing any thinking?”

“Bastard,” Crowley snorted, “I was thinking how happy I am I get to wake up like this, potentially, for the rest of my days.”

“Hmm, could be a lot of days.”

“Could be the rest of days, maybe beyond.”

“And you're choosing me for that?”

“Well, we can take it day by day...”

Aziraphale huffed.

“I'm kidding, Angel, yes. I'm choosing you for all my days. And whatever comes after days aren't a thing anymore.”

Aziraphale let out a little delighted sound and, reaching out, tugged him onto his chest. His kisses started off soft and deep, but quickly became deeper and ravenous.

“Angel, neh,” it was difficult to talk with an angel's tongue in his mouth, and he was sorely tempted no use it as an excuse but, “Aziraphale, oh-” there was a thick thigh wrapped around his hip, pulling them flush together in delicious ways. What was he talking about? It wasn't important. Couldn't be.

Crowley combed his fingers into the downy curls at the back of Aziraphale's head and tugged lightly, pulling his head back so he could trail kisses down his throat, delighting in the shivers running through his lover's body.

Somehow, the upper moment also gave him enough air to notice the bedside alarm clock. He wanted to ignore it's damning information and carry on with what he was doing. Clearly, the angel did, too, rocking up into him with soft, needy noises.

“I need to get downstairs soon,” but his actions, he knew, were not backing up his words, nuzzling and licking under Aziraphale's ear.

“N-no, you deserve a day... a day... morning? Of rest,” reducing his angel to a puddle of sentence fragments was Crowley's favorite hobby.

“Is that what I'm doing?” Crowley pushed himself up on his arms, looking down at him, their lower bodies still in contact. Aziraphale's hands had migrated to the backs of his upper thighs, squeezing and pulling him to rock against him.

“What?” And the angel had also lost the plot. A hand sneaked into Crowley's hair and yanked him back down to meet hungry lips and teeth. He gave into it again, losing the plot, himself.

“Neh- Angel, really though. It's nearly six,” Crowley pulled back again, “And I need a shower.”

Aziraphale stared up at him, looking dazed a mussed and it was pulling at every bit of resistance Crowley had. But, maybe...

“But, you're welcome to join me... if you like.”

He watched Aziraphale consider this: that he would have to let go of him, but that he was also allowed to follow him. His eyes cleared a little and he pulled his limbs away one at a time, seeming to pry them away against their will.

Crowley kissed his forehead then both his cheeks, nuzzling his nose and smiling at him.

“I love you.”

“You keep that up and I'm definitely not letting you out of this bed.”

“I love you,” Crowley smirked at him, pulling away and climbing out of the mess of blankets to stand and stretch.

“You foul fiend,” Aziraphale blustered with no real steam, “tempter.”

“That's me,” Crowley tossed over his shoulder as he made for the bathroom, putting a little extra strut in his walk for show.

Aziraphale was behind him a moment later, tugging at his elbow until he turned around and then pressing him against the wall beside the bathroom door. The kiss he gave him made his toes curl.

“I love you, too, my dear serpent,” and he pulled back, tugging him towards the shower, “now let's get you cleaned up for the day.”

-

There was something different about Gladys this morning, but it seemed like a good thing so Crowley wasn't going to press. She was more cheerful this morning, an extra spring in her steps. She hummed while she cut ribbons in red, green, and gold to the right length to wrap the iced sugar cookies. He dutifully wrapped them and awaited her instructions. When she had cut enough ribbon she showed him how to tie them properly and curl the ends of the ribbons.

“Does it matter which colors I use?”

“Nah, whatever you fancy.”

Crowley shrugged and started tying the little packages, noting that she wasn't doing any of the tying herself, instead leaning back against the counter, cup of tea in her hands.

A few minutes later the front door banged open and slammed, making him jump nearly out of his skin. He managed to juggle the cookie in his hands without dropping it, but only just. Through the doorway to the kitchen stormed Edie, looking like she was on a mission. 

“Oh, hey-” But she was gone before he even got another word in, walking straight to he walk-in freezer and closing the door. A moment later there was a lot of very loud yelling. Crowley jerked and made for the door, but a hand clutched his elbow.

“She's fine.” Gladys smiled at him, gesturing back to the ribbons.

“But, she's screaming.”

“Yup.”

“In the freezer.”

“She'll be out in a moment.”

He stared at her another minute then looked at the door and then awkwardly went back to tying the ribbons.

The door to the walk-in opened and then closed, Edie taking a deep breath and then walking over to them. Gladys handed her the tea and Edie kissed her cheek. Crowley felt like he was out of his depth and so he just focused on his knots. Edie appeared in front of him as she slid on to a bar stool on the other side of the counter.

“Oh, we might have to mess around and put you to work full time,” she winked at Crowley when he looked up.

“Everything alright in here?” Aziraphale's face peeked in the doorway, “I heard slamming.” His cheeks were pink from being outside, hanging nets of twinkle lights on the hedges.

“It's fine, dear, just an old lady blowing off some steam. No need to fret,” Aziraphale made to leave but she called to him again, “put on a coat, would you? You're making me cold.”

“Yes, ma'am.” The angel winked at Crowley and produced a down jacket, putting it on and heading back outside.

“I assume your son's feeling better,” Crowley tried making conversation, he was halfway through with the ribbons.

“Oh, yes, back to his normal self. I love him, I do, but I think distance helps me love him more.”

“The grandkids are worth it,” Gladys elbowed Crowley and smirked at him.

“Oh, most definitely. I might love them more than I love him.”

“Ah, that's just biology. I think we're programmed to love 'em more,” she leaned in conspiratorially, “besides, I have a theory that the best genes skip a generation.”

Edie considered this, nodding and sipping at her tea. She wrapped her hands completely around the mug, sighing happily as she absorbed the warmth.

“So, you scream in the freezer? I wish I had known. I would've made use of that during my last visit,” Crowley finished up curling the last ribbon, “Actually, Aziraphale might've had use for it, too.”

“Looks like we've got a couple more cookies to bake up and then tonight is putting the baskets together. Which is good, they're to be picked up tomorrow morning,” Gladys was slipping the packaged sugar cookies upright into the tubs and setting them aside.

“We sometimes call it the I-Scream Freezer,” she winked at Crowley and laughed.

“Only you call it that,” Gladys grumbled, but she was smiling. She turned to fetch one of the remaining bowls of dough from the refrigerator.

“I'll get you on board. You'll start of saying it ironically and then it'll stick.”

“You won't!” Gladys sat the bowl down and handed the ice cream scoop to Crowley. He started scooping the cookies onto the sheets, listening to the bickering and deciding it sounded awfully familiar.

“Oh, let me have my fun.”

“It was nice and quiet around here with you away,” Gladys tsked and took the first full sheet and put it in the oven before heading over to sit beside Edie, her own tea in hand.

“You missed me.”

“From time to time,” Gladys leaned against her shoulder for a moment.

“Crowley, I think she missed me the whole time.”

“I think you're right,” Crowley leaned his elbows on the counter and smirked at her.

“Oh, now, no ganging up on me!”

“Crowley says you missed me,” Edie sing-songed, tossing her head back and laughing.

“And to think, I was nice to you,” Gladys glared at him, but cracked a smile and winked.

Crowley laughed, a deep belly laugh that left him feeling light in the middle and heavy in all his limbs. He realized that all this time, something had been off about Gladys and he had missed it until now. As she leaned into Edie's shoulder again he saw that it was there: a level of comfort that hadn't been there before. That knowledge that the one being in the world to see you completely was near you, loving you. It made a person glow. Crowley wondered if he glowed when Aziraphale was around. He must do. He sighed softly, thinking about the smile that lit up the angel's face whenever he came in the room. Aziraphale glowed and it was for him.

“Aw, someone's having mushy thoughts,” Edie was grinning at him when he tuned back into the conversation, no idea what the two of them had been talking about- oops.

“Was not.” It was impulse to deny it.

“Oh, you should see them, Edie. Nothing but mush and gropey hands, these two. Had to put them both to work or I would never get any use out of this one.” 

No amount of control over his corporation would save him from the blush that painted his cheeks and crawled up his ears, but that didn't mean he needed to corroborate this story.

They broke for lunch while the last of the cookies cooled, toasted sandwiches and soup in the sun room. Just as they were finishing up Gladys perked up, looking over the heads of everyone else.

“My word, we might have a white Christmas yet!”

Everyone else craned necks to look outside. Sure enough, large fluffy flakes were floating about. Few were touching the ground yet, but that could change.

“I'll go let himself know to haul out the non-slip mats,” Edie got up and left for the foyer.

“You know, I had my hopes... I wanted this to be a perfect little Christmas for you boys. Maybe I'll get my wish, yet.”

Crowley smiled shyly at Aziraphale who leaned over and patted Gladys' knee.

“I'm sure it's going to be wonderful, snow or no snow,” he reached over and squeezed Crowley's knee, leaving his hand to linger there.

“Oh, sure,” and there was that twinkle again, Crowley could see it now not just hear it, “But snow will make it more magical, I think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr:   
> [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	13. Cookie Angels

The three of them, Crowley and Edie and Gladys, worked all afternoon and into the evening packaging up the cookies. Gladys had produced baskets from a spare room and Edie explained something called “shrink wrap” even as she wielded a hair dryer. Each cookie had its place and there was a lot of rearranging to make every basket unique, but also balanced (in some cases, quite literally: too many denser cookies on one side would make the baskets tip over). Ribbons were tied and bows were made by hand. He was, mercifully, saved from that task because Edie was a quick and efficient bow maker.

In the end, they had their 50 baskets, all lined up and taking up every spare inch of counter space in the sizeable kitchen.

“I hope they're coming by early tomorrow,” Crowley stood, hands on his hips, surveying the gleaming packages.

“Yes, 7am, why?” Gladys was beside him with a cup of herbal tea, Edie beside her with a cup of black- “aw, you're cute dear, but I can sleep with espresso in my system.”

“Well, I don't see how you could make breakfast for the guests with all of this,” he gestured at the counters.

“Ah, but I thought of that,” she opened the refrigerator and pointed at some platters of scones, “Just add coffee and they'll be none the wiser.”

“I'm telling you, Glady, we might as well hand him the keys,” Edie bumped her elbow, “He's almost to the point where he's thinking far enough ahead to run this place.”

Crowley snorted.

Gladys let out what was now becoming her trademark dramatic yawn.

“Okay, ladies, I think I can manage from here.”

“Oh, I can help,” Edie put down her mug, facing him, “I've hardly been here to help at all.”

“Nope,” Crowley popped, making a shooing motion, “It's just a bit of mopping tonight, anyway. You ladies go off and enjoy some time alone. I've got it, really.”

After he got double the cheek kisses, they meandered off. He ran a last load of dishes and cleaned the floors and then went in search of Aziraphale. He found him, as he often did now, waiting in the sun room. He was standing in front of the Christmas tree, admiring it.

“You really like that thing, don't you,” Crowley came up behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Do you know? Some of these are antiques? I could tell just looking at them, of course, but Gladys comfirmed it. Some of them have been passed down in her family for generations. I'm shocked she let me touch them, let alone hang them in such a public place,” Aziraphale was fretting.

“Just because something's old doesn't mean it can't continue to bring people joy.”

“Sure, but what if they break one? All that time, all that history. It could be gone in a moment.”

“Can't find any joy if it's hidden away in a box, though.”

“True.”

“Okay if we put something new near all the old things?”

“I suppose so, what do you have?”

Crowley produced the matching angel cookies, now wrapped in clear celophane and tied with silver and gold ribbons. Each one had a ribbon loop at the top for hanging.

“You're sure Gladys won't mind cookies on her tree?” Aziraphale took the cookies and smiled down at them.

“Oh I'm sure I'll get an earful when she notices, but it won't be because she's mad about it...” Crowley grumbled then laughed.

“She does like to tease you,” Aziraphale hung the cookies front and center and leaned back into Crowley who hugged him and rested his chin on the top of his downy head.

“I'll tell you a secret as long as you promise not to spread it around.”

“I'll not breathe a word of it.”

“I don't really mind the teasing,” he whispered it like she might hear if he spoke too loudly.

“Oh, dear, I think it's far too late. She already knows.”

“Do you suppose there's anything she doesn't know?”

“All knowing Gladys.”

“Just so.”

Aziraphale turned in his arms and smirked up at him.

“What about teasing Angels? Do you like those, too?”

“Quite possibly my favorite kind.”

“Possibly?” Aziraphale bumped his nose with his own.

“Definitely,” Crowley pulled him in tight at the hips.

Aziraphale leaned in for a kiss and Crowley waited, his eyes falling shut, but nothing happened. He opened them again to find Aziraphale smirking at him and pulling away, heading for the door.

“Oh, you're going to pay for that!”

“Promises, promises!” 

He loped up the stairs behind him to catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr:  
> [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	14. A Box of Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'll indulge me, most of this chapter is backstory on my OCs. But I've had bits and pieces of this backstory floating around in my noggin since the first story. So, now you can have them, too. I was going to call them headcanons, but I suppose if it's for OCs then it's just canon. ;)

The next morning, astonishingly, he woke before 6am all on his own yet again. If this was becoming a habit, he thought, he didn't like it at all. Once they got home, he would find a way to break it. Early to rise, no thank you.

It did have its advantages, though, he thought as he took time to watch the sleeping angel beside him. Home would be different when they went back. Hopefully, in more than one way. But, if nothing else, home would be waking beside his beloved, potentially forever. That was, if the angel always slept. He did when Crowley was visiting and staying the night, but Crowley wasn't sure what he got up to when he wasn't there. He found himself more and more curious to know. Perhaps he should tell him he didn't always have to follow Crowley's whims. They would talk about it. No doubt, moving in together would involve a lot of talking about things. Or, maybe it wouldn't. Maybe it would all fall together naturally. Either way, he wanted to be a part of the angel's life. What he didn't want to do was take it over completely.

But wouldn't it be nice, on the odd morning that the angel slept in, to sneak out of their bed (their bed! - he could see it... tartan sheets and a deep blue duvet covered in stars; it wouldn't match, but it would be theirs) and creep to the kitchen to make him breakfast? The surprise greeting a sleepy-faced angel. Soft, sappy kitchen kisses. His heart ached and squeezed with the thought, and he wanted. He Wanted. He wanted little mornings like that for the rest of his days.

He carefully pulled away from the still snoozing angel, tucking the blankets around him to create a little soft cocoon. Aziraphale nuzzled down into his pillow and let out a little snore. It nearly had Crowley crawling right back in beside him, sod breakfast. Nearly. Quietly as he could, he slipped into his trousers, jumper, and socks before padding downstairs. 

There was no light on in the kitchen this morning, he discovered with some amount of shock. Maybe Gladys took the morning to sleep in after being up before dawn every day. She had earned it, for sure. Then he spotted light spilling out from the sun room. Poking his head around the doorframe he saw her on the loveseat beside the tree. She waved him over.

“Do you sleep at all?” He stood over her, hands on his hips.

“Oh, sometimes, if I can't help it,” Gladys' lips tilted up into a lopsided smirk, “Never was much good at it and running this place might not seem like an all day job, but it can be.”

“I can't imagine, one of my favorite states of existence is being unconscious.”

“I think I know what all the others are.”

Crowley hummed, following her gaze to the cookies hanging on the tree beside them.

“I've had a great time here, you know.”

“It's nice to know I didn't drag you here, kicking and screaming.”

“Nah, well maybe a little dragging,” Crowley sat down beside her, “ I think you know that. But, being with him here. It's made me more sure... you know, of us. That we work.”

“It was plain to me from the moment you both walked in here the very first time,” Gladys patted his knee, “but I know it can be hard to see that kind of thing when you're so close to it. And, well, we miss things that are right in front of us all the time.”

“True,” Crowley was thinking about how they had raised the wrong child together, neither of them realizing it wasn't the anti-christ. If you could miss that, you could probably miss near about anything.

“I was sitting here this morning looking at the things in this box...” Gladys shuffled through a hat box full of clear-loved slips of papers and envelopes, “They're letters and cards Edie and I sent to one another. Over 40 years worth. Christmases and Easters and birthdays and 'just thinking of you's...” She trailed off as she gently touched the letters.

“Did you always know?”

“No,” she looked a little wistful for a moment, “Edie says she always kind of knew her feelings for me were stronger than friendship... But, I... It's a fine kind of line isn't it?”

“Can be, sure.”

“Here we are at the beach, must be 8 years old there... Our families both vacationed there that year and that's how we met. We didn't even know we lived down the street from one another until we got back!” Gladys handed him a blurry, yellowed photo of two little girls. Their arms were twined over one another's shoulders and they were smiling like they might burst into giggles at an second.

“She knew then? At 8?”

“Not like that, really. She says she knew I was special and that she wanted to spend every moment with me. I loved her to bursting, but I can't say it was something more than the love for my family or my friendships up to that point. She was just... part of me. She wasn't there and then she was and I couldn't imagine how my life had been before her.”

“That sounds like love,” Crowley handed back the picture and sunk a bit into the cushions.

“Did you know? The moment you saw him?”

“Nah,” Crowley laughed, “I knew when he told me he had done something his superiors would hate, but that he'd done it out of kindness. Bit of a sucker for someone who makes their own choices, bit more for someone with good reasons. Not that you need to spread that around.”

“I'll cancel the skywriter.”

“Many thanks.”

“She wrote this to me right after her husband died,” she handed him a very worn letter, the seams where it was folded nearly coming apart, “He died young, you see, right after their second child was born. She said she didn't know who else to turn to.”

“Did you go to her?”

“Of course, I did.”

“But it didn't happen then?”

“No, I was still married myself.”

“Did you love your husband?”

“I did, he was good man. He worked hard and he tried to give me and our children a good life,” she took the letter back and tucked it carefully away, and hugged the box to her stomach, “He was one of my best friends, Crowley, he truly was. Do I think I loved him romantically? Was it the same? No, not quite. But, it worked. I don't regret what we had or what we built and I do miss him. What he left me, I used to buy this inn and bring it to life. So, I like to think he's here, in a way.”

“So you went to her but you didn't stay?”

“I stayed for a while. I helped with the kids to give her some time to grieve. She loved her husband just as fiercely as she loves me. A heart can do that, you know? Edie's got a lot of room in her heart, it's breathtaking. And it takes time to heal after a loss,” she handed him another picture, this time with two twenty-something women, each with a child on their hip. It was clearly the same people from the first photo, but they weren't smiling here, “Even if I had been ready, she wasn't.”

“Ships passing in the night.”

“Just so. Ah, here she is after she started teaching gradeschool,” Gladys showed him a picture of a woman surrounded by a passel of little kids, some clinging to her skirts, before taking it back and touching the photo reverently, “I had some idea by then. I'm not sure I could have put it in words, you understand. But, something about this photo... This smile. I remember thinking I loved her and I missed her. Which was silly, since we saw each other fairly regularly- every other week or so we would get together. It just... it wasn't quite enough. It was never enough time.”

“Aziraphale and I were like that for most of time. I always looked forward to seeing him, bumping into him while on assignment. But, it was never for long. And it wasn't always a good meeting- we worked for competing companies. Eventually, we started find excuses to see one another. This one time he got jailed and, he's never confirmed this, but I'm fairly certain it was just so I would bail him out,” Crowley laughed and Gladys shook her head and smiled, “So Edie never remarried?”

“No, by then she was busy raising the kids. And, as she put it to me at the time, no one else struck her fancy. I didn't know she meant no one else, other than me.”

“And you were still married, then?”

“Yes, my husband didn't pass until about, oh, it's been a little over ten years now.”

“I'm sorry for you loss.”

“Thanks, dear,” she patted his knee again.

“So, then, what was it in the end? That final thing that slipped into place?”

“Edie is retired from it now, but at the time my Frank died she was still teaching,” Gladys handed him a photo of the inn, but it looked very different from how it looked now: dilapidated and over grown, the roof was caved in and several windows were shattered, “I decided since my kids were off on their own and I had time and hurt on my hands, that I should do something with it. I've always been active about my feelings that way. If you've got energy of any kind, you need to make it useful. That's what I think.”

Crowley hummed, handing the photo back and taking the next: an older Edie stood in the foyer with a hammer in hand. She was smiling goofily around the nails in her mouth.

“She was here every day after work, mending this place with me. Weekends, summer break. I had enough money to fix it up, but only if I did a lot of the smaller repairs myself. I have no idea how long it would have taken if not for her help.”

She took the photo and handed him another. This one was different. It was candid- and Crowley wondered who might have taken it- the two of them holding paint rollers pointed at one another, paint smeared across both of their cheeks and most of their clothes.

“It was that night, if you'll believe it. We had goofed off all day. I know we were covered in more paint than the walls. It was a beautiful spring night and we had dinner out on the porch. Blanket spread on the floor, you know, since I hadn't received the furniture yet. We shared a bottle of cheap wine over dinner and afterwards, when I was all warm and fuzzy I asked her why she never married again. I was sure there was someone out there that was worth her time, even if I never felt anyone was good enough. That's a way friends think.”

“Uh huh...” The very idea of someone else being good enough for Aziraphale made Crowley's skin crawl and his stomach drop. He wasn't sure he was good enough, but he didn't want the angel to even entertain the idea of someone else, “What did she say?”

“That I was a damn old fool.”

“Rude!” Crowley clutched his chest with exaggerated affront.

“She was right.”

“Still. Bit on the nose.”

“Maybe. But then she touched my cheek and leaned in and kissed me.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“And you realized the error of your ways?”

“Eh, I might've freaked out a little,” Gladys laughed softly, “but I came around quick enough. She gave me the time to do it.”

“I waited decades for you, I could wait another few days watching you get your head on straight,” it was Edie's voice, they looked over to find her leaning on the doorframe. She came closer, sitting on the coffee table and poking at the box in Gladys' lap, “I can't believe you kept all of this.”

“As if you don't have your own box,” Gladys huffed, clutching hers to her belly.

“Yeah, but I knew.”

“She'll be rubbing this in my face until the hereafter,” Gladys spoke to Crowley, but pointed a thumb back at Edie. Edie grabbed her hand in both of hers and kissed it, smiling at her, “And I don't mind.”

“As long as we're together, eh?” Edie tugged her hand happily.

“Did I miss a breakfast party?” It was Aziraphale now at the sunroom door, still looking warm and sleepy, but with a smile brightening his face as he saw Crowley, “I wondered where you got off to.”

“I'm going to make my angel some breakfast,” Crowley whispered to the ladies in his company.

“Not much space left in there.”

“I just need a burner, a bowl, and the ingredients for some crepes. If... if that's okay?”

“Oh, go on then.” Gladys gave him a shove and he got up, loping over to Aziraphale. As he took the angel's hand and led him away, he saw Edie curl up next to Gladys, pawing through the box in her lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr:   
> [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	15. Snake Snack

That afternoon it began to snow in earnest, flurries turning to flakes that worked together to blot out the grey landscape. They traveled in the whirling winds, sticking to the trees and the garden and the walls. Inside the inn it was still cozy and warm, perhaps more so than before. Edie and Gladys spent the afternoon in the kitchen doing prep work for the inn's Christmas feast. Two days away, there were already foods they could prepare ahead to be popped in the oven in time for dinner. Crowley was given reprieve from this, though he offered to help.

“You should spend some time with that boyfriend of yours, dear,” Gladys was being particularly nice to him and it was making him even more nervous than he had been- and he'd been getting pretty keyed up as Christmas approached anyway.

“It's allllllmost time,” Edie was absolutely no help as far as anxiety went, but she only giggled when he glared at her.

So, they wiled away the snowy afternoon playing with a chess set Aziraphale had found on a bookshelf in the sun room. The pieces and the board itself were wooden and old, polished to a shine by decades of games. Crowley cheated which made him happy. Aziraphale noticed, and let him with a small amount of squawking, but still managed to win which made him happy, too.

Edie brought in a tray of coffee, pastries, and sandwiches later in the day. The two of them were curled under a blanket on the love seat, lights out but for the tree, watching the snow swirl outside the window as the sun set. Edie winked at Crowley before she left, earning her a tongue stuck out in response and then she was gone back to the kitchen.

“Really, the pair of you.”

“She's riling me up on purpose.”

“She wouldn't do that.”

“Oh, she would. She is!”

“Over what?”

Crowley shut his mouth with an audible click and looked back out at the snow.

Aziraphale's hand crept up his thigh, just a tickle of fingers.

“Getting handsy with me, Angel?”

“I have ways of making you talk.”

“Do you really want to spoil Christmas?”

“Is that what has you so tense?” He was gently stroking Crowley's thigh now and even Crowley could feel one kind of tension trading spaces for another in his body as he leaned towards Aziraphale, “Darling, I'm sure whatever you've picked out of me, I'll love it. It's from you.”

“That's what Gladys said on the phone when we first talked,” Crowley chuckled.

“Well, it's true.”

“Are you nervous about what you're giving me?” Crowley could play this game, too, and he moved his hand to rest near the angel's knee, barely tracing it with a finger. He delighted in watching a small shiver quiver through Aziraphale's shoulders.

“The thing itself, no. Not really. The presentation, maybe.”

“Gonna put on a show for me,” Crowley leered at him, leaning in closer and squeezing his thigh right above the knee, “Might scandalize the ladies of the house.”

Aziraphale laughed and it was a high and precious thing, shot through mostly with joy but a little bit of nervousness of his own.

“Hardly. I doubt there's anything that could truly offend them at this poi-int,” Crowley's hand had crept higher, “Except maybe the thoughts I'm having right now.”

“Having randy thoughts? Pssh, naughty angel,” Crowley's fingers were most definitely teasing him through his trousers, “I think we'll have to put you to bed early for those kinds of thoughts.”

“I think I'll need supervision,” Aziraphale was staring at him with rapt attention now, color rising to his cheeks and ears, down his throat, a lovely shade of pink, “To be sure I behave myself, stay put.”

“Oh, I would be the wrong one of that,” Crowley pressed into his side, slithered into it, really, “I'll only encourage misbehavior.” He stood, offering his hand and Aziraphale took it, following him to the hall and up the stairs.

-

The first thing Crowley noticed the next morning was that Aziraphale was wrapped so completely around him, he couldn't possibly escape even if he wanted to. He didn't want to, though. For anyone else, it might have been uncomfortable warm under the blankets so wrapped up in a radiating angel, but for Crowley it was just right. He was perpetually cold, it was the snake in him, but especially so in the winter. The snow was beautiful to look at it, but the very vision of it made his body shiver and lock up. Some part of him wanted to find a burrow and sleep until it was over. His current situation was a perfect burrow.

The next thing he noticed, and he felt stirring in the arms around him as he did, was the smell of cinnamon and fruit.

“Someone's baking pies,” the words were slurred against the back of his neck and the lips moving there sent a delightful jolt down Crowley's spine.

“You're not even awake yet,” he stifled a laugh so as not to jostle his angel and possibly make him move.

“I know things.” The words were slightly more coherent.

“You can sense baked goods at 50 paces.”

“Damn right I can,” Aziraphale's arms closed in more around him, his legs, too. The angel hummed happily. Crowley echoed back with a happy little noise.

“Alright, smarty pants, what do you smell?” He felt Aziraphale take a deep breath behind him, let it out, then take another.

“Apple pie, surely. Crumble topping. Oh, that'll be divine.”

“Blasphemy!”

“Cherry,” Aziraphale ignored him, sniffing some more, “Mince? That might be mince. It's been ages since I had a decent mince pie. Maybe I should go have a look.” He made to release Crowley, but Crowley wanted none of that. He rolled over and pinned him down, hugging him around his chest.

“Nope, no can do. Sorry.”

“Why not?”

“Because you've been tempted to the burrow of a demon snake and you're not going to be used as a warm body for the rest of eternity,” his words, he knew, were muffled into the skin of Aziraphale's chest, but the angel would get the jist of it.

“Is that so? No way to vanquish the demon? Save the day? Be rewarded with tasty treats in compensation for my good deeds?”

“Afraid not. I don't make the rules. You're just stuck here now.”

“Well, the pies aren't done yet anyway.”

“I see where I stand.”

“Yes, on a timer,” Aziraphale chuckled, combing his fingers through Crowley's hair, “I'll know when they're done.”

“Because of your special magic sense?”

“Sure, my sense of smell. They'll smell even better when they're done.”

“What ever will you do to while away the minutes?” Crowley placed a kiss on his chest and then another before smiling up at him.

“I think I'll have a snack.”

“You did not just call me a snack.”

Aziraphale laughed and Crowley felt it in his whole upper body, splayed as he was across him. 

“Where on earth did you learn that?”

“I talk to people!”

“When? Who? Who explained snacks to you?”

“Gladys' grandson,” Aziraphale sniffed, “He helped me find the Christmas lights the other day. Oh, you really should come outside and see them tonight.”

Crowley shivered at the thought.

“I'll warm you back up when we come inside,” Aziraphale weedled, “It's Christmas eve, you should see how pretty the inn is with the lights. Besides, I want to see what it all looks like in the snow. We won't be long.” Puppy eyes, his angel was giving him puppy eyes.

“Yeah, alright,” he grumbled, “but you are responsible if I wind up sleeping in a hole somewhere until spring.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr:   
> [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	16. Just Desserts

It took some amount of time to get downstairs, what with the way Crowley pinned his angel to the bed. And then Aziraphale's wandering hands in the shower. And the way they wound up snogging each other senseless at the top of the stairs, almost winding up at the bottom by way of running afoul of gravity. By the time they made their entrance into the kitchen, hands linked, they were pink in the face and couldn't stop smiling at one another. 

That was, until Aziraphale saw the pies lined up on the kitchen island: apple crumble, cherry lattice with sparkling sugar on top, and mince were all present but also accompanied by blackberry and peach. Aziraphale drew close and hovered over the pies, cooing about how beautiful they were. He reached out to touch one, but Edie smacked his hand with a spatula. 

“Ow!” he yelped, yanking back his hand.

“They are for dinner tomorrow night,” Edie sounded deathly serious.

“Oh, alright, but they are beautiful,” Aziraphale sat on one of the barstools, continuing to admire them. Crowley recognized the rapt attention, remembering how Aziraphale had looked at him in the shower. He took a quick mental turn from that image before he was overwhelmed with the urge to grab the angel's wrist and drag him back to their bedroom. 

“What have we got here, then?” Crowley sauntered to the counter, also admiring the pies. They were a thing of beauty. Gladys and Edie clearly had talent. Edie pointed out each type with the spatula and Crowley crowed, “you missed a couple, Angel. Off your game.”

“I was a bit distracted,” Aziraphale hmphed. Crowley approached his stool and spun it around to face him.

“You can only smell some pies over my mouth-watering aroma, then?”

“Or maybe you still smell like butter and sugar. It's distracting.”

“I've bathed!”

“I know, I helped!”

Crowley felt his face go crimson. He looked over at the ladies only to find them looking suddenly very busy facing the opposite counter.

“Maybe I'll be rubbing down with butter and sugar every day for you when we get home,” Crowley pressed his forehead to Aziraphale's and smirked at him.

“Oh, that would be a terrible mess on my sheets.”

“Tell me, in this vision are they tartan?”

“...yes.”

“No loss there.”

“Hey!”

“That's okay, Angel,” Crowley wagged his eyebrows at him, “they're tartan in my vision, too.”

Aziraphale smiled and wiggled happily on the stool.

“Alright, that's enough mushiness near the pies, you're going to melt the pastry,” Edie swatted Crowley with a tea towel.

“Fine, fine. We'll move it along,” Crowley made a motion towards the sun room and set off for it. Aziraphale lingered, smiling bashfully at Edie and Gladys.

“You don't really mind, do you?” Aziraphale stood to leave.

“Nah,” Gladys winked at him and handed him a tiny mince pie, “Run along, now.”

Aziraphale smiled broadly and left, catching up with Crowley.

“Pssh, really?” Crowley had spotted the pie.

“Told you she likes me,” Aziraphale's smile was smug now.

“I think you're the favorite.”

“Do you want a piece.”

“Nah, I would rather watch you eat it.”

“I still don't understand what you get out of watching me eat,” Aziraphale sat on the loveseat, peering up at him. Crowley hadn't actually meant to say that out loud.

“Well,” he shrugged, going for casual, “I like to watch you take pleasure in things. I like knowing you're enjoying yourself.” He sprawled on the other side of the loveseat, managing to take up most of the room while Aziraphale sat up properly. He rested his head on the back of the sofa and waited, watching Aziraphale with a lazy smile on his face.

“Could you...” Aziraphale trailed off, looking away.

“Naw, now don't do that,” Crowley nudged the angel's knee with his own, “Whatever you want.”

“Oh, that's a list,” he looked back at Crowley, “I wondered if you might tip your glasses down while you watch me. I like watching you, too. Your eyes... they're so expressive.”

“Didn't know you liked 'em,” Crowley pulled his shades down his nose part way and peered at Aziraphale.

“I do. I like that you take them off when we're alone.”

“I've got nothing to hide from you,” Crowley watched as he took a small bit of the pie and hummed happily, “Except for Christmas.”

“Yes, I suppose that makes two of us.”

“Tomorrow, no secrets then.”

“Yes, I will feel better not keeping it from you.”

Crowley grunted, watching him take another bite and let out another hum, wiggling on the part of the cushion that Crowley wasn't currently sprawled over. Crowley kept watching him even as he finished, patting the sides of his lips with a napkin and brushing invisible crumbs off his trousers.

“It was one thing,” Crowley cleared his throat, but it did nothing to get rid of the gravelly sound his voice had dipped into, “before I knew what you sounded like when you... you know. Those little sounds you make, Angel, they would keep me up at night after our dinner dates. But, now I know...” He shifted in his seat, glancing at the door and pushing up his glasses.

“Maybe a little dessert is in order.”

“Dessert,” Crowley blinked, confused, “But you just had pie.”

“It really does devil with your brains, doesn't it?”

“What?”

Aziraphale stood and made for the door, leaving the confused demon still on the sofa as he turned and went up the stairs.

“You dummy,” Edie poked her head around the door frame, from out of nowhere, “he wants you for dessert! You best get up there.”

He should have been mortified, but instead he just smiled at her and hoped he'd willed down the color that wanted to rush to his cheeks.

She high-fived him as he ran past her.

-

After supper it was decided that they would all go out and have a look at the lights that Aziraphale had been diligently hanging outside the inn. Crowley was happy enough to look at them, but still reluctant on account of the weather. The snow had continued to fall and it was ankle-deep now. He shivered as he peered out the the front door.

“You're not going out like that!” Gladys was behind him, shoving a long black coat into his hands, “You'll catch your death. I insist.” She watched him as he put it on and buttoned it and then wrapped a red and green scarf around his neck enough times that his chin was nearly lost inside it. And then she handed him mittens.

“Really? Where on this planet did you find men's sized mittens?”

“I made them.”

“What? Why?”

“For you! You always look cold. You make me cold just looking at you sometimes.”

He put on the green mittens, even though they made him feel silly. Pretty much instantly his hands felt warmer, but he wasn't about to tell her that. One look from her, told him she already knew, though.

“See, I thought you might take better care of yourself if doing so meant using a meaningful gift.”

Crowley clutched his hands to his chest and leaned in to her, whispering, “I'll treasure them, really.”

“Don't much care for treasuring, I'll be happy knowing you're using them.”

Aziraphale bustled by them in a cream-colored overcoat. He also had knitted mittens, but they were white with faux fur around the wrists. He pulled on a matching hat and stood by the door.

“Are we ready to go have a look?” Aziraphale craned to look past Gladys, “Where's Edie.”

“I'm coming, I'm coming!” Edie appeared from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolates and passed them out. “No need to stand around out there freezing our buns off without something to keep us properly warm.”

“Finally, someone's speaking sense.”

“Oh, you poor dear,” she handed him his cocoa and patted his cheek- her hand was still warm from holding the cup- “if I'm the one speaking sense, we're in loads of trouble.”

Aziraphale opened the door and led them out into the parking lot. There wasn't a strong wind, but enough that it nipped sharply at Crowley's ears as he followed behind the others. He burrowed his face down into the scarf. 

“Alright, turn back... now,” Aziraphale walked around and stood behind them as they turned back to the inn. They gasped and smiled and turned one at a time to congratulate him: The whole front of the inn was outlined in white lights, gently fading off and on at random. The walls were outlined in red and draped with net lights the same color. All the bushes were strewn with red and green lights.

Crowley was staring hard at the white lights, trying to discern a pattern to their tranquil flashing when he felt something warm and fuzzy slide over his ears. He jumped, reaching up to find earmuffs.

“Wha-”

“Consider it an early Christmas present,” Aziraphale hugged him from behind. There were too many layers to feel the angel's warmth and Crowley felt the pity of it. Still, his ears had stopped stinging.

“Thanks,” he leaned back and kissed the angel's chilly cheek and shivered dramatically, “The lights are beautiful.”

Gladys appeared in front of them and clutched both of their chins.

“You boys have made this Christmas so special, you know that right? We couldn't have done all of this without you.” She was looking at them very earnestly from beneath the low brim of her knit cap. It had a giant pompom on top that was wiggling with the light breeze.

“I think we're thoroughly enjoying our stay,” Aziraphale's voice sounded a little pinched.

“I think we'll all enjoy our stay more inside,” Crowley burrowed up to his sunglasses into the scarf around his neck, “Not that the lights aren't pretty.”

They went back inside, still sipping their cocoa.

“By the way,” Gladys said as she unbuttoned her coat and hung it on one of the hooks by the door, “I got a call from the group holding the bake sale. All the baskets sold.”

“Oh, what marvelous news!” Aziraphale clapped his hands together happily.

“Someone, one person, bought all of them.”

“Wow, that's a lot of cookies for one person...” Crowley grumbled.

“And then donated the cookies to the orphans...” Gladys was eyeing them suspiciously.

“Don't look at me! I've been here the whole time,” Crowley squawked.

“I do wish I had thought of it, but I confess that I didn't,” Aziraphale looked honestly contrite.

“Whoever did it, it was an unexpected kindness,” Edie was still eyeing Crowley who shrugged at her.

“Anyway,” Gladys threw up her hands, giving up on having an answer tonight, “We all better get to bed. Santa's coming tonight! But he won't visit until we're all in our beds. Goodnight, boys.”

“Goodnight, Gladys. Edie.” Aziraphale nodded to them and they watched the two wander off down the hall.

“You,” Aziraphale turned to Crowley, “You bought all the cookies, didn't you?”

“Yeah.”

“That was a wonderful thing to do.”

“Nah, it was alright.”

“The children will love them.”

“Come on now.”

“I think,” Crowley found himself being pressed against the nearest flat surface- the wall, thankfully next to the coat hooks,- and kissed sweetly, “You should be rewarded for your good deed.”

“Is it a good deed if there's a reward?”

“Sure, if the reward was unexpected,” Aziraphale practically dragged him up the stairs. As if he was going to protest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr:   
> [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	17. The Secret Ingredient Is Love

Crowley thought that the night before he proposed would be fitful, sleepless. That, perhaps, he would sleep in bits and pieces and have stressful dreams. It wasn't like that at all. Aziraphale had loved him to a drowsy state of peaceful exhaustion before, astoundingly, falling asleep before him. He lay as long as he could, gazing at the angel- watching his slow and even breathing and listening for his little snores. Admiring that he allowed him this vulnerability and so many others. He was still nervous, to be sure, because that's who he was. But a part of him had settled into place tonight: tomorrow he would offer the rest of his days to the best friend he had ever had and there was a certain surety that Aziraphale would say yes. He drifted off and dreamt of soft, white twinkling lights and cocoa and an angel's smile lighting up the darkness.

-

“Crowley,” the voice was soft and very close to his face. He grumbled at it.

“Crooooowley,” it was a little louder now, a smile curling the end of his name.

“Neh.”

“There you are.”

“m'not.”

Aziraphale laughed quietly and touched his face. Crowley cracked one eye, it was still dark.

“s'not Christmas yet.”

“It is, though.”

“Nope, still dark,” Crowley closed his eye and nuzzled down into his pillow, “Santa might not have come yet.”

“Is this what I have to look forward to when we get home?”

“You could let me sleep.”

There was a little shuffling and then Aziraphale's voice was closer.

“But I want to start the day with you.”

Crowley groaned softly and blinked open both eyes to find the angel's face close to his.

“There are those beautiful eyes,” he sighed and kissed him, snuggling in close. Crowley wouldn't say, but wake-ups like this would be more than worth the loss of sleeping in. He kissed him back, pulling him along as he rolled on to his back.

“I want to give you your first present,” Aziraphale smiled down at him.

“First? There's more than one?”

“Oh, yes. This one I can't give you downstairs, only up here,” the angel's hand trailed suggestively down Crowley's stomach and now he was fully awake.

“But what if Santa's still watching?”

“We get a reprieve between Christmas day and New Years.”

“Are these rules written down somewhere or...” Aziraphale's hand had found it's destination and Crowley shivered.

“Would you like your present now?”

“Uh, uh huh.”

“That's what I thought,” Aziraphale grinned mischievously- and didn't that do things for Crowley- and disappeared under the blanket.

-

There was a pile of pastries fit for royalty sitting on the table in the lobby when they finally made it downstairs. Aziraphale went for them immediately, cooing about the beautiful lamination of the dough. 

Crowley sauntered into the sun room. The tree was lit in front of the wall of windows, showing off the crisp snow all over everything outside. It hadn't snowed overnight and it wasn't now. The sun was obscured by clouds, but the snow still twinkled. It was a picturesque scene and it should have made him want to hurl... But, what could be better than this, really? What better backdrop could he hope for?

He turned to the tree and now noticed that there were presents piled under it, wrapped in garishly cliché wrapping paper and done up with curly ribbon. There was a little pile for Gladys and one for Edie and another with Gladys' grandson's name on it. 

And then two more little piles... for him and Aziraphale. Crowley squatted and blinked at them in confusion. In Aziraphale's were a large lumpy package and a large tin. In his own were another large lumpy package, a smaller rectangle- maybe a box?, and a tiny little box. The tiny box was wrapped in black paper and had red ribbon tied around it. Crowley suspected that one might be from Aziraphale. He wondered what could be in such a small box.

He meandered back to through the foyer and into the lobby where Edie and Aziraphale were now sitting at the table, discussing the ins and outs of good pastry.

“It's the lamination, if you don't get good lamination- keep that butter cold- it's a lost cause.” Aziraphale said as he munched on flaky little bite-sized fruit-filled pastries.

“There's another secret ingredient, you know. It's in all home made baked goods.”

“All of them?”

“Well, sure.”

“What is it then?”

“Love, you goose. You can taste the love that goes in to something that's made from scratch!” She turned her smile from Aziraphale to acknowledge Crowley standing there and he nodded like he understood.

“I can feel love, you know. I can sense it.” Aziraphale was still munching away as he talked, little flakes falling from his fingers and onto the table in front of him. He must not have noticed yet or he'd be fussing.

“Well, then you ought to know it's in there.”

“I think I can feel it, now that you mentioned it,” Aziraphale winked at her and reached for an apple turnover that sparkled with sugar all across the top.

“Gladys in the kitchen?” Crowley pointed that way.

“Yep,” Edie waved him off and he went to the kitchen, but paused in the door way when he heard his name.

“Your poor senses must go haywire around Crowley, then.”

“How do you mean?”

“He's bonkers-crazy head over heels for you, dear.”

“I don't really get any sense from him, actually. I mean I get a feel for him, but nothing specific I would call love,” Aziraphale cleared his throat, there was the sound of something being put down on a plate before and went on, “I'm not sure if that's because he's always felt a certain way and so I just chalk it up to being who he is or if I'm just too close to see. Either way, for a time I was convinced that he couldn't love.”

“That's just crazy talk,” Edie sounded incredulous. Crowley silently thanked her. He could damn sure love. He loved his Bentley and he loved stirring up mischief. But the love he felt for Aziraphale eclipsed both. It made him a little sad that the angel couldn't feel it, although it was probably best that he couldn't for most of their friendship. He wished he could change himself, even just a little, so he could show him the depths of what he felt.

“Oh, I know that now. It seems rather silly in hindsight. No one loves like he does. It's a safe, giving, selfless kind of love. I might not be able to sense it, but I can see it in his actions and hear it in his words.”

“He orbits you, dear, like you're the sun.”

“I suppose he does.”

“And you love nothing more than shining on him, don't you?”

“He..,” Crowley could hear him swallow hard, apparently choked up, and the desire to go to him was almost unbearable but he held still, “He believed in me when no one else did- including me- and he was there when my family abandoned me for their own selfish causes. If I can spend my life shining on him, Edie, it's something he deserves.”

“Now, don't you get me blubbering on Christmas morning. Eat another pastry,” Edie sniffed pointedly and Aziraphale went back to munching.

Crowley carried on in to kitchen and found Gladys struggling to get a turkey that was nearly as big as she was into the oven. He rushed over and held the other side, the two of them sliding it in together.

“Thanks- oh goodness, but you sure have a dopey look on you this morning!” Gladys wiped her hands on a tea towel and threw it over her shoulder.

“Neh, I don't.”

“Okay, if you say so,” she chuckled, “but you look like one lovesick fool to me. You do know you've already won him, right?”

“Just... sometimes I wish I could meld our minds so he could feel what I feel for him.”

“Oh, he knows,” she waved him off and started unloading the dishwasher. Crowley automatically started taking things from her and putting them away. Funny how quickly this kitchen had become home base for him here at the inn, “but I understand. I feel like that with Edie sometimes. Then sometimes she gives me this knowing smile and... I know she knows.”

Crowley hummed.

“Are you nervous?”

“Not as nervous as I thought I would be.”

“When are you going to do it?”

“When are we opening gifts? I see there are presents for all of us, you crazy woman.”

“After dinner,” Gladys said laughing when he pulled a face, “the anticipation is the best part! Kids, you let them run down on Christmas morning and tear into things. They're too keyed up to wait. But, we're adults now... We can savor the magic a little longer.”

“Savor the magic, okay.”

“Now, be a good lad and wash the potatoes for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr:   
> [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	18. Idiots to Lovers to... Still Idiots

There was something going on with Aziraphale, but Crowley couldn't pin down what that something was. He got more withdrawn and jumpy as the day went on. Over dinner he managed to fumble the gravy boat and spill it across the table. Gladys saved that with a quick clean up and having plenty more where that came from. He knocked Crowley's wine glass into his lap which meant he'd had to go back upstairs and change. That also wasn't all that big of a deal. Neither was the fact that they kept bumping elbows awkwardly or the fact that, other than that, Aziraphale hadn't touched him at all over dinner. Though, it made him realize that over the last few months there was rarely a time when they weren't in contact of some kind.

The biggest worry of all had been when the angel had finished his own slice of pie and Crowley surreptitiously slid him his slice. Aziraphale had thanked him with a smile and then proceeded to pick at it with his fork, but not actually eat it. In all the times Crowley had known him, all the years of watching him enjoy his food (and Crowley's,) he had never seen him too worked up to eat a dessert. A cold ball of tension was building in his own stomach. He wanted to get Aziraphale alone and figure out what was wrong, but there wasn't time for that right now. So, he watched him.

They all retired to the sun room, sitting around the cheerfully glowing tree with another glass of wine. Aziraphale and Crowley, as they normally did, took the loveseat. Crowley watched him and gulped his own wine. His worry was not decreasing, but he was starting to feel a little fuzzy around the edges. The ring in his pocket felt large and hot even in it's tiny little box. He hadn't been nervous about it all day, not really, but now with Aziraphale acting so strangely he wondered if this was a good idea.

“Okay, boys,” Gladys ambled over to the tree and picked up the two large, lumpy packages and handed one to each of them, “these are from me and Edie. She picked out the designs and I made them.”

“Group effort,” Edie nodded, sipping her wine to hide her grin. It didn't work, Crowley saw it.

Crowley tore into his package while watching Aziraphale carefully dismantle his out of the corner of his eye. The sweater he lifted from the paper actually wasn't that bad as far as ugly Christmas sweaters went: it was black with a red collar and edging on the sleeves and bottom and in between was strewn with green and white stars. They twinkled in the light, the yarn being run through with sparkly threads. Crowley dutifully pulled it on over his own shirt, tugging it down and turning to the angel beside him.

“How's it look, then?”

“Oh, very festive.”

“Fits you just right, dear,” Gladys smiled at him and if it was a little mischievous around the edges he ignored that, “do you like it?”

“I'm warmer already, yeah I like it.”

Eyes turned to Aziraphale as he lifted his from the wrapping paper. She had had no qualms with making his sweater as hideous as she wanted: it was red with white trim and the center of the chest and belly was covered in a giant Christmas tree festuned with little ornaments and bells. The sweater actually jingled when he shook it. But, Aziraphale looked genuinely pleased with the gift. He pulled it on even with all the layers he was currently wearing and wiggled happily, making the bells jingle.

“I love it!” he stood and jingled over to Gladys and hugged her and then did the same with Edie, “No one's ever knitted me a Christmas sweater before... and I've been around a long time. I will treasure it.” Gladys looked a little taken aback with his generous praise, but she didn't say anything. Aziraphale jingled back over to Crowley.

“What do you think?”

Crowley choked.

“What? It's festive!”

“It's just...”

“What?” The angel's hands were on his hips. His eyes told Crowley he better say something nice or else.

“You're the angel at the top of a tree, is all,” Crowley couldn't contain his giggles any longer. Gladys and Edie joined in, laughing. After looking down at the sweater and then over at Crowley, Aziraphale laughed, too. It smoothed out some of the worry that had lined his face all afternoon and evening. The knot in Crowley's stomach loosened a little.

Aziraphale picked up the other gifts on his way back to the sofa where he sat a little closer to Crowley this time. He passed the flat rectangle to Crowley and then popped open his tin. Inside were little ginger cookies, topped with sugar. He thanked the ladies again for his gift and nibbled one while watching Crowley expectantly.

Crowley tore open the package and found a small, leather-bound journal. Inside were all the recipes for the cookies they had made over his stay. He had been trying to remember every bit of them so he could try baking them again later for Aziraphale, but it had been a rush job and he knew it was impossible to recall all the proper measurements. He opened the book and touched the lettering.

“You hand wrote them all,” he swallowed past the lump in his throat, touching the curly letters, “how did you have the time?”

“You can make the time for such things. There are some other things in there, too, like some recipes for scones. I thought you might want them, too.”

Crowley clutched the recipe book to his chest and stood, crossing the room and kissing her cheek.

“Thank you, I really do love it.”

“I'm glad, dear,” Gladys wagged a finger at him, “you be careful not to get it all grimy with sugar and butter!”

“I wouldn't dare. This is a priceless gift.”

When Crowley returned to the loveseat it was to find Aziraphale holding out the remaining tiny box for him, a strange look of nerves and hope on his face.

“Now, um,” Aziraphale handed it to him as he got closer and Crowley set his book down on the arm of the loveseat, “I want you to unwrap it, but I'll open it. You sit.”

Crowley sat and, in deference to Aziraphale's careful wrapping, he took his time untying the ribbon and unwrapped the box before giving it a little shake. It didn't rattle. He handed it back to Aziraphale. Only, in that time the Angel had knelt in front of him. He had a sudden, sinking feeling. Aziraphale opened the box and inside, nestled in grey velvet was a ring: it was a wide, black band that ended at the top shaped like a feather curled around a gleaming faceted black diamond. Crowley looked from the ring in Aziraphale's hand to the angel's face, completely flabbergasted.

“I... I had it all planned out. What I was going to say. It was going to be poetic and heartfelt, but I fear I'm too nervous for any of that... But, you know I love you, darling. And, I want to spend the rest of my days showing you just how much.”

There were a lot of things Crowley could have said to this proposal. There were a lot of things Crowley should have said to this proposal. In the coming years, he would make up for what he actually said:

“No way...”

Time slowed down around him in that moment. Not in the actual, reality-changing kind of way that he had done to avert the apocalypse. More like how time stops when you've made an awful terrible mistake and only realize it a moment after you've done it and now you have to live through every nanosecond of your mistake hitting home.

Aziraphale's face went through several shifts of emotion while Crowley watched, his tongue heavy in his mouth: shock, confusion, dismay, and then sadness. Crowley's eyes then shifted over Aziraphale's head, taking in Edie's face in her hands and shocked expression along with Gladys making strangling motions with her hands.

And then time reasserted itself at its natural speed. Aziraphale was clutching the box, now closed, to his chest and he wasn't looking at Crowley anymore.

“That's not what I meant! Angel, that's not what I meant!” Crowley was on his own knees, clutching the angel's chin and making him look at him, “I'll have you. You understand? I'll have you until this universe is dust and atoms and something else is here. And, by G-Sa- anyone!- if we're still here after that in some form, I'll still love you then, too.”

“So,” Aziraphale chuckled damply, eyes still wide and shining, “That's a yes then?”

“Yes, love,” Crowley kissed him, “It's a yes.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale breathed in deeply and let it out slowly, “Oh, you rather frightened me.”

“I'm so sorry. It's just... I had hoped to... Well, you kind of stole my thunder.”

“How do you mean?”

Crowley reached into his pocket and pulled out his own little box. Aziraphale gasped, hand flying to his lips.

“We didn't.”

“Yeah, you idiots both did.” It was Gladys. Thankfully, this time when Crowley looked at her, she was smiling instead of threatening his life.

“You knew!” Crowley was incredulous, “You knew this whole time. He told you, too.”

“I'm afraid I have a confession to make,” Aziraphale stole his attention again, “I asked for Gladys' help with this. I... I wanted to do it here because this is where we started down this path. And she was more than happy to help.”

“But, the orphans...”

“Oh, they were real. Happy circumstance. Er, well,” Aziraphale coughed, “I mean, it's not happy that they're orphans. But she was going to bake for them either way. It was, ah, a convenient excuse.”

“Knew it was over the top.”

“So, can I see it?”

“See what?”

“My ring?”

“Oh,” Crowley looked down at the box in his hands, “Yeah, of course.” He opened it, revealing a golden band that curled like a serpent around an exquisitely clear diamond surrounded by tiny opals.

“My, it's beautiful.”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I do,” Aziraphale wiggled his fingers, “put it on?” Crowley slipped it on his finger. The ring looked like it had always belonged there and didn't that just make his heart flutter. Crowley offered him his hand and Aziraphale opened his tiny box back up, slipping the band on his finger. They both marveled at their own rings and then smiled stupidly at one another.

“Maybe we should get up off the floor,” Crowley laughed, slithering back up onto the couch and helping Aziraphale up beside him. He twines his fingers through Aziraphale's and squeezed his hand, “is this what's had you fretting all day?”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Yes,” they all answered in unison. Crowley mock glared at Gladys and Edie who suddenly found the Christmas tree the most interesting thing in the world.

“It's always been you, Angel,” Crowley cradled his cheek in his hand, “since the moment on the wall when you defied god herself to help the first humans. I've never had eyes for anyone else.”

Aziraphale, absurdly in Crowley's mind, looked like he might burst into tears again so he pulled him close and kissed him deeply, delighting in the soft moan he got in response.

“There was no answer,” Crowley pulled back and pressed his forehead to Aziraphale's, “that I would give you other than 'yes.'”

“Except the one you gave me was 'no way.'” Aziraphale was smirking at him.

“I'm never going to live this down, am I?”

“Not if we survive the end of the universe and live amongst the dust and atoms.”

“Bastard.”

“You love me,” Aziraphale sing-songed.

“I could take it back.”

“You won't.”

Crowley grunted, pulling back and looking around. Gladys and Edie had made a sneaky exit while they were in their own little world.

“Let's go upstairs, fiancé.” Aziraphale stood and offered his hand, lights from the tree bouncing off the ring on his finger. Crowley took his hand and followed him. Back inside their suite, Aziraphale pressed him into the door, pulling his arms over his head. The feel of the cold engagement ring pressed against his wrist hand him rocking into the angel as he was kissed breathless. They stumbled together towards the bed, but stopped short when they saw there was something on it.

A basket full of bath goodies. Salts, scrubs, soaps, lotions and body oils all in vanilla and sandalwood- something they would both like. Attached to it was a note in curly writing:

“Santa sees all and he wanted to bring you coal for your naughtiness, but we talked him into a bath set instead. Enjoy the tub, boys. Happy engagement! Love, Gladys and Edie”

“I'm not sure what we did to deserve them,” Aziraphale sighed happily.

“I'm not sure what we did to deserve them as punishment,” Crowley grumbled.

“You don't actually mind the attention.”

“Don't tell them that.”

“I won't if you keep me busy enough. I'm feeling a little bored right now... Maybe a little girl-talk, some gossip,” Aziraphale made for the door but Crowley grabbed his wrist.

“How about a massage instead,” he held up the little bottle of oil.

“Hmm,” Aziraphale drew close again, “What was saying? I'm afraid I forgot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr:  
> [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


	19. Alligators and Naked Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And, we've reached the end! I tried not to stretch out goodbyes because goodbyes rip my heart out IRL. We'll leave it with a little humor and promise.
> 
> A very, very hearty thank you to all my readers/commenters. This story was meant to be a few thousand words as part of my NaNoWriMo prompt game and it wound up being almost three times as long as the previous story. That is absolutely due to your encouragement and enthusiasm. May the current and future holidays find you safe, healthy, and happy my friends.

Breakfast had started as a very social affair: Gladys and Edie wanted to see the rings they had picked out for one another. There was the cooing and the clucking of tongues and the discussions about how very fitting they both were for the ones who wore them. 

Then there was tea and a grand fry up. Gladys offered them the option to stay through New Years, but they politely declined. Aziraphale really should get back to his shop and Crowley had someone to tend to his plants, but he didn't trust them to be firm enough with them.

“He's a good lad. He listens and he follows my instructions, but the plants know he's not the tyrant that I am. It'll take me a week or more to put them back in their place,” Crowley quietly handed Aziraphale his toast while nabbing an extra piece of sausage off his plate.

“I don't like customers, but I do need at least a few to keep up appearances,” Aziraphale spread extra jam on the toast and munched it happily.

“Well, we'll miss you anyway,” Edie leaned back in her chair, “You just can't know what a pleasure it's been to have company for the holiday.”

“Even if it was coerced,” Crowley mumbled.

“What was that, dear?” Gladys speared him with her eyes.

“Nothing, nothing. It's been good, really. Why don't we plan to see each other again in the spring. Put us down in the books for May?”

“Oh, it would be something to look forward to!” Gladys smiled, “You could help me with the garden.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Oh, you'll both enjoy bullying all the plants,” Aziraphale said, looking to Edie, “Do you have interest in baking cakes? I perfected a few recipes while in lockdown, but I would love to learn a few more.”

“Gladys is the baker, but I'm not too old to learn some new things,” Edie grinned, “I do like eating cake, anyway.”

“They'll be on a sugar high the whole time,” Gladys told Crowley, “We'll have our hands full winding them down at night.”

“I think we're up to the job,” he pulled Aziraphale's arm and kissed his cheek, watching as he turned a light shade of pink.

-

Before they knew it, morning had become afternoon and afternoon had bled into evening. The duffles and the book suitcases were packed away in the Bentley and they said their goodbyes. Gladys and Edie were still standing on the porch, watching while Crowley sat staring out the windshield, car idling.

“We could have stayed a little longer if you wanted,” Aziraphale's hand was warm on his knee.

“I want to go to Florida for the honeymoon,” Crowley gripped the steering wheel through his new mittens.

“I thought you said you didn't want a ceremony.”

“I don't care about a ceremony,” Crowley grumbled, “I want a honeymoon, though. That seems like a decent human tradition.”

“But... Florida? Why Florida? I hear there are alligators. Great big buggers, lots of teeth.”

“Nothing wrong with an alligator.”

“Do be serious.”

“I could honeymoon by myself.”

“You wouldn't.”

Crowley put the car into drive and pulled out of the lot, fiddling with the near-ancient heater.

“That would be easier in real gloves, which I know you have.”

“I like the mittens...”

“But... they're awfully... cute.”

“They're practical! Got all my fingers together in one place to keep one another warm, don't they?” Crowley waggled his mittened fingers at him.

“You want to go to Florida to lay in the sun.”

“... yeah, maybe.”

“You could just say that.”

“Why? You figured it out.”

“I'll be quite the eye sore on the beach.”

“Aziraphale, you could never be an eye sore. I'd have you in sunshine or shadow,” He watched the angel blush and stammer out of the corner of his eye, “besides, we could get you a more modern swimsuit. Some trunks.”

“I-I'll not lay on the beach so naked,” Aziraphale squirmed, “Not everyone needs to see all of me.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, if you ask me.”

“Still.”

“We can work you up to nakedness.”

Aziraphale hummed noncommittally in reply. There was a stretch of easy silence.

“So, Florida?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“You're sure you'll hate it?”

“Oh, I'm sure you can make it worth my pains.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“I'm going to say yes.”

“Oh, we're going to love Florida, Angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr:  
> [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Really, I think I want Gladys to follow Crowley around and tell him (a) he's okay and (b) he's an idiot. Just, all the time. 
> 
> ... I may need a Gladys, too. lol
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr: [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


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